


Nothing Comes from Nothing

by actualjohnwatson, blue_pointer



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A.A. Milne quotes, Action Sequence, Action/Adventure, Bye Steve, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Canon-Typical Violence, Cavity Search, Eeyore again, Girl Power, Karaoke, Kidnapped karaoke, Kidnapping, M/M, MC Baby Underbite, Memories, Morse code love notes, Nenets, Nenets people, Poor Tony, Sharing a Bed, Siberia, Sibling Bonding, Suicidal tony, Super Soldiers, Tony and Bucky sitting in a helicopter, Tony sings, Wakanda forever, Wakandan tribal council, Winter Soldier doesn't get me, Winter Soldiers, Zemo is a creeper, accidental hand job, caught masturbating, desperation sex, enter the 100 Acre Wood, everyone is staring at Nat, reindeer rescue, sorry it's not Santa, surprise blow job, the best way to get a light, what is Wakanda's version of youtube called?, winteriron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-01-10 13:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualjohnwatson/pseuds/actualjohnwatson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: What if Winter Soldier had kidnapped Tony after their fight in Berlin, and Steve hadn't succeeded in pulling the helicopter down? Zemo's plan changes just a tad, and Tony's and Bucky's lives get a lot more interesting.





	1. The Spark

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my more serious attempt at the 'triggered Bucky kidnaps Tony' story I began in [Save Yourself](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114318). With all the help from actualjohnwatson.
> 
> -Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only Winter Soldier would think kidnapping Tony is a good first date. When Zemo meets up with them in Russia, three’s a crowd. Can Tony charm Bucky into helping him keep warm in Siberia while Zemo lays a trap for Steve?

The Soldier does not like this cat-man. He is making him late, causing malfunctions in the arm with his vibranium ring. He wants to kill this man. But the mission is more important. The longer he delays, the higher the risk of failure. Winter Soldier does not fail missions.

He allows his opponent to get in a hit, relaxes, feels his body thrown through the air, feels it impact with the wall behind him. When he falls, he swings himself under the stairs and moves back the way he came. He should have grabbed the target when he first encountered him, but there had been too much interference: these women soldiers, like flies buzzing in his ears.

*

Tony had been so proud of himself, too. Adrenaline pumping, he'd stopped the bullet before it could do any real damage. But he'd been knocked to the ground anyway. Hit his head pretty badly but there was no Friday and no damage assessment to tell him how bad and it felt like he'd sprained his wrist.

He'd been through worse. Like ten minutes ago when Cap threw his gift back in his face, yelled at him over the kid, and well...he didn't want to contemplate what else he thought might be happening. Thinking the words break-up didn't make it one but it came too close to his liking.

So it was better to just lie here and play dead.

Until he's tossed upside down like a sack of potatoes and going at speeds no natural man can run.

*

He sees the target, lying where he’d left him. Sometimes there is no challenge. He runs past and grabs him up without stopping, throwing the small man over his good shoulder--he will need the metal arm to fight.

Running up flight after flight of stairs. The nearest helipad will have a copter. Too many important people here not to have at least one. Fortunately, his hostage doesn’t weigh much. He’s not even struggling. He should check health status once they’re safely away. He sprints for the copter, tossing the smaller man into the passenger seat.

Tony grunts, jostled, but he plays quiet until he's basically thrown into the back of a helicopter and  kidnapped.

The Soldier is just starting the rotors when that systems malfunction comes bursting out of the stairwell, making a beeline straight for him. _Not today, systems malfunction._

Tony watches Cap try and come to his rescue and his heart flutters. Maybe things aren't as bad as he thought.

The Soldier snaps the tether as they take off, and it’s just enough time to allow systems malfunction to grab the landing gear, try to pull them back.

_Damn, look at those arms._

The Asset’s instinct is to turn fast, chop him up in the propeller. But if he does that, he risks the hostage falling out, likely being injured, as he’s not as durable as the Asset. Mission instructions were to get the hostage to the rendezvous unharmed. He grits his teeth, securing the control so that he can lean out the door, shouting to the systems malfunction. “Steve!” he makes sure his eyes are desperate.

Systems malfunction looks up, confused, vulnerable. He hits him right in the teeth with his metal arm, causing systems malfunction to lose his grip and fall hard, back onto the safety net surrounding the platform. He hits his head and doesn’t get up, causing the Soldier a brief moment of regret. Regret? What is that? He grabs the control and they rise into the air, fast as the copter will go.  

Tony watches helplessly, hand pressed to the glass until he's too far away to see. Tough. He's seen Steve get up from worse.

That's what he tells himself anyway.

He leans against the window and watches the soldier from the corner of his eye, playing with his watch. It's a miracle he still has it after all. If he can get it off he can asses the damage. Fix it. Get the upper hand. Die trying. Whatever.

Once they’re well on their way, cruising toward their next connection, the Soldier turns his attention to the hostage. He’s awake. That means he’s fine. Playing with that damn watch. And are those glasses…? He snatches the smart glasses off Tony’s nose, crushing them and tossing them out the door.

Tony huffs. "Well fuck you too, then." Is his wrist swelling? Looks like. He stares out the window. Better to play quiet then get other things taken away.

“No,” the Soldier tells him firmly. “No fucking.”

"Not literally, asshole." Tony rolls his eyes.

The Soldier holds out his right hand. “The rest.” It will be easier for the hostage if he doesn’t have to strip search him for weapons or communications technology. The Soldier’s hand lands on Tony’s elbow. “Don’t resist. More painful.”

He blinks, how many times was that beaten into him as a kid? He sighs turning all the way around and quietly digging in his pocket for the mini tool kit he carries with him.

"I can't get it off, see?" He holds his wrist up, flapping it. (Ow)

“Injured?” The Soldier grabs his hand, drags his wrist close, looking at it.

He tries to pull his wrist back, but it hurts. Should know better. This isn't his first super soldier rodeo. Tony tries to control his face. Tries not to wince.

The Asset sees no broken bones. Perhaps a fracture, more likely just a sprain. He lets the hostage’s hand go.  

"Look I can get it off. Screw driver." Tony pulls the kit out of his pocket.

“Stark smart,” he says. “Asset smart.” Then he points to his eyes, points to Tony to show he’ll be watching him. No funny business.

Tony makes a noncommittal noise. "Yeah, buddy, you do that." He turns back to his watch.

The Soldier watches him. He’s likely planning something. But more importantly, he didn’t hand over all his tech. Sighing, he puts the copter on auto and leans over, grabbing the hostage. The Soldier begins by searching his pockets, crushing and discarding anything remotely electronic. He tears off Stark’s jacket, searching his breast pockets, too, meat and metal hand patting and groping for anything hidden on Stark’s person.

"Hey! Hey hey hey hands off-" Fuck! He's reached his boiling point. "Why?! Why did you take me?! What the fuck is the point?"

“Mission.”

"Mission from who, Barnes? Who had time to give you a mission?" Maybe if he gets him talking--but no Tony doesn't really care. He just wants to get out of it.

That’s never worked before, and it won’t work this time. If Stark cooperates, he’ll see for himself soon enough.

Tony pushes the Soldier away as best he can, kicking him in the stomach trying to get him away.

Tony’s efforts don’t do much. The Soldier’s expression remains determined, focused. Since the hostage refuses to play nice, he stops treating him gently. He grabs Stark by the throat and squeezes, staring him dead in the eye until he stops kicking and punching. If that doesn’t work, he’ll have to restrain him. “Resist. Pain,” he tells him. Personalities like this never listen to warnings.  

So Tony's expected to just go quietly. That's not going to happen. He pushes and struggles until he can't anymore. Physically can't. What's a little pain in the long run?

The Asset calculates just the right amount of force needed to knock him out for a little while. Then Tony becomes the proud recipient of a slap to the head that brings blackness, but only for a few minutes. In that time, the Soldier finds some cord to tie him with, restraining his hands behind his back--after breaking and removing the wrist device--and tying his ankles together.

He goes thoroughly through Stark’s clothing, removing vest and shirt to reveal what he’s hiding, removing everything. He checks his body cavities, too. Well, all but one. The Soldier tosses Stark over the back of the seat, carefully unfastening his pants--it won’t do to tear them and have him completely naked where they’re going. He checks that orifice, too. Satisfied Stark isn’t hiding anything else, he leaves him there like that, turning his attention back to the copter and their course. They’ll need a new mode of transportation in just a few hours.

Tony is groggy when he wakes. "Cold."

And what's going on with his pants? There’s no _real_ ass pain. No. That's not what this is. Besides judging by the clock on the console it's only been a few minutes. He's tied up good and tight but--"You didn't gag me."

The Asset ignores the prisoner when he wakes back up. As long as he doesn’t start fighting again, there’s nothing to worry about.

"Where are we going? Scratch that, where are you going and could you drop me off before you get there? Someplace  warm and sunny would be grand. If not can you at least dress me?" Where are they going? Tony tries to get a handle on their coordinates. "Move your big head, Barnes."  

The Soldier is still ignoring him.

Tony sighs, shrinking in on himself to get warm. Bored. He doesn't enjoy being ignored.  It makes him think too much. Contemplate things he'd rather forget. He squirms. He taps his foot. He eventually opens his mouth again.

"Well, since my baby left me, I found a new place to dwell

Down at the end of Lonely Street at Heartbreak Hotel

Well I get so lonely, baby, I get so lonely, I get so lonely I could die."

The Asset’s brow crinkles. What strategy is this? When nothing more comes of the singing but music, he relaxes again. Stark’s voice is not unpleasant. Does he know this music? It sounds familiar somehow. The Soldier quietly taps his foot in time to the music. This is not how he was expecting this trip to go, but he doesn’t mind it. So far.

The song pours out of Tony’s little broken heart. Followed by “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” and ending with a soulful rendition of “Oh Darling”, ruining his voice for the rest of the trip.

Stark’s singing gets progressively more strange. Is it a hidden message? Annoying.

But losing his voice doesn't stop Tony. Oh no. He asks Barnes many questions. In Morse code. With his feet.

_When are you letting me out? Can I have my clothes back? Where's Steve?_

The Soldier shakes his head. A stupid question. He’s back in Berlin. Stark saw for himself.

_Do you think he's coming?_

A rescue? That’s not his job to think of, apart from completing his mission. He sees no likely interruptions.

_Steve. You think he's a lost cause?_

Lost...cause???

_You guys ever fool around?_

Fool around?!

_Sure seems like it._

“No! _”_ He grabs the jacket and throws it over Stark’s perky behind for good measure. Did he ever make sex with the systems malfunction? What a ludicrous question.

Tony assumed that the soldier knew what he was saying, not really expecting an answer but it was worth a try. And it's not like he was going to be sleeping any time soon.

He’s so grateful for the makeshift blanket, he croaks a thank you.  And then immediately regrets it.

Ah, the hostage had said he was cold. Winter Soldier is not used to being thanked.

_I think we're over. I think._

The Asset taps back, _Many problems_ , because Stark has them. So many. And none of them are his problem.

 _Between me and Steve? Yeah, it didn't used to be this complicated. I think this is a bigger issue though. Besides maybe he's coming to kick your ass._ Let a man dream _._

What in the name of Schmidt is he talking about? The Asset laughs at the last. Systems malfunction will have no chance this time. This time, he knows the weakness, and he will be prepared.

_What's funny? Share. You don't think he  could do it? Maybe not. He's loyal to a fault._

Funny? No, this is wrong. Systems malfunction is infiltrating his programming again. He will not give in. The Asset does not have emotion. He composes his expression into something more stony, doing his best to ignore the hostage’s prattling.

Tony's enjoying himself now. It's nice to have a companion. Even if it's a scary murder assassin.

_How much longer? Can you tell me that?  I hate to break it to you pal, but you aren't the best traveling companion. I'd much prefer Fozzie Bear._

He would prefer a fuzzy bear? This hostage is mad. All the more reason to ignore him.

Tony's lost him. Damn. He tries a few more conversational tactics and then lays off. Which sucks, because he's really bored.

With only a few gallons of gas remaining, they reach Moscow. He drags the prisoner back down into the passenger seat, drapes clothing on him, and wraps him in an emergency blanket he finds in the back of the helicopter. Then Stark gets slung over his shoulder once more, as he abandons the helicopter and makes his way to the rendezvous point.

"I can walk!" Tony coughs and kicks. This is not the way he wants to be manhandled.

The Soldier whacks him on the rump and puts him down. Thankfully Stark acted up before they were anywhere populated.

Water would be great, Tony thinks. "I'd be less conspicuous  if you would let me walk."

A bound man, being escorted by someone like himself, less conspicuous? Even in Russia, is he joking? The Asset punches him in the temple this time, knocking him out for a good while. He wraps Stark more securely and goes to wait the allotted amount of time for his commander.

When Tony wakes up, he’s inside a small plane, and it’s cold, cold, cold. The face of the Interpol psychiatrist looks down at him. “My apologies, Mr. Stark. My companion’s methods are not very...gentle.” He glances at Winter Soldier, who’s flying the plane.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Oh it's the little weasel man."

Zemo purses his lips. How like the great Tony Stark to be insulting when he's been nothing but polite.

“I'm sorry, am I supposed to be impressed with you?"

He offers a cold smile. "No, Mr. Stark. I don't imagine much impresses you."

Tony nods at Barnes. "Him, I expect guys like him. But you?" This one’s going to talk to him though. Tell him all the little details of his scheme. Something in his weasel face.

Zemo merely smiles. No one expects Sokovian special forces. He bows his head. "And I am but a humble messenger."

Tony’s pants are pulled on. And his shirt. Maybe it was Barnes. No nonsense kidnapping style. Don't want to kill your target before you even get to send the note.

He's not going to think about it. "What happened to my blanket?" Messenger for who? "If we're heading to Siberia I want my blanket." It's clear that's where they're going but why?

Zemo glances behind him to the storage area of the plane. “Are you cold, Mr. Stark? Allow me.” He drags out the blanket and tucks it around Tony, as if he’s putting him to bed for the night. Creepy.

“So you have surmised our destination. But why?” He smirks. “Naturally you will want clothing more appropriate to the weather than a three piece suit and blanket.”

As far as creeps go, this guys the creepiest. Evil guys? Expected. Assholes? A dime a dozen. But this guy made his skin crawl. "Thanks, but uh, how about you don't ever touch me again okay?" Unwanted contact.

Zemo actually snickers at that. "As you say, Mr. Stark."

He pulls out some extreme weather gear. Fails to mention that it was the Soldier who reminded him that such gear was necessary for non-mutant humans in Siberia. “Would you care to put it on, or are you satisfied with your blanket for now?”

"If you're going to try and put it on me, I think I'll wait." Funny how he was more comfortable with the robot assassin than with this guy.

"If you prefer, I can have the dog do it for you." He turns to shout at the Soldier in Russian, telling him to come back and attend their guest.

The two men switch places.

The dog. Sure the dog kidnapped him and tried to shoot him in the face but he was just as much a victim as Tony was.

Tony kicks at his seat. _Hey, Puppy_. He winks at the soldier. There are other ways to get out of these kinds of situations.

The Soldier's brow crinkles. What...is that? What is the hostage trying to do?

"Cold?" He asks. Is he supposed to dress the little man?

"A bit." Tony flutters his eyelashes.

 _What?????_ Those eyelashes shoot little sparks down his neural pathways. What is happening? He nods, stepping forward to grab the cold weather gear.

"You gonna warm me up?" Aw. He's kinda cute when he looks confused.

The Soldier stops, even more confused. Warm him? He glances back at Zemo, uncertain. He bends down, taking the thermal beanie and carefully putting it on Tony. Then he peels the blanket away, removing layers of clothing before putting on the special gear. It will keep his body heat in better if it’s against his bare skin. He starts by carefully taking off the hostage’s jacket and unbuttoning his vest, then starting to unbutton his shirt.

Tony leans with his head on the Soldier’s shoulder for as long as he can get away with, and he's perfectly relaxed until Barnes unbuttons his shirt. Tony flinches. He knows he's been kidnapped. He knows the Soldier’s already seen his abnormality. But he hates it. Hates that stupid scar.

It's odd for the hostage to lean his head against him, the Asset thinks, but it's no matter; he's not in the way. The Soldier doesn't know how to interpret the flinch. He glances briefly at Tony before continuing, getting his shirt off and moving to unknot his wrist restraints so he can finish and start the shirt underlayers. Once Tony's hands are free, he tosses the dress shirt, vest, and jacket aside and pulls a thermal undershirt over his head.

Tony shrinks around himself. "I can dress myself. I'm a big boy. And it's not like I can get away." It's not going to work. But he's got to try.

The Soldier nods, stepping back to give Tony room.

"Watch him," Zemo snaps, expecting some trick.

Tony turns around and away, dressing quickly.

The Soldier watches him quizzically. Why is he turning away? There’s nothing there he hasn’t already seen.

There's nothing in his clothes. No tracking device. No stabby stabby screwdriver. Barnes took care of that but maybe there's something in the coat. He runs his hands over the pockets before sticking his hands in. Something vaguely cell phone shaped. But it's too early to be excited. Tony purses his lips turns around and slides his hands in.

Paper and tinfoil, smooth against his fingers. Probably ancient, but he's trying to make friends with his puppy dog guard here. Tony breaks a piece off, puts a finger to his lips and hands off a piece to Barnes, watching weasel man with wide eyes.

The Soldier takes it, examining it. Is it dangerous? No. He unwraps some of it, takes a sniff. Not poison. There was a time the Asset would have handed it over immediately to his handler. But this man isn’t his handler. And something in him...though he doesn’t recognize exactly what it is, part of him wants it. So he slips it into his pocket. Turning, he asks the commander if he should bind the hostage again.

“What do you think, Mr. Stark?” Zemo asks. “Will you be a well-behaved guest, or should we bind your hands and feet again?”

Success! No, Barnes doesn't eat it but weasel face is right there. This is step towards progress, or partnership. He's not sure which.

"Do you know how these hostage situations work?" Is he really stupid enough to let Tony sit in the plane and make friends with the brainwashed soldier? Underestimating Tony? Or is he blinded by whatever it is he thinks he can get out of it?

“More than you are,” Zemo tells him. “But you are not my hostage, Mr. Stark. As I said, you are my guest.” He gets up from the pilot’s seat and switches places again with Winter Soldier, coming to sit in the back of the plane with Tony. He has his hand on something in his pocket, but otherwise is as friendly as before.

 _Oh, I don't want to talk to to you_ , Tony thinks. "Guests get to leave whenever they want. You stole my keys." Or Barnes did. Destroyed any means to call his suit.

“You refer to your Iron Man access. Have no fear, Mr. Stark. You will have access to your...car when you have need of it. Perhaps we can ask your bosom friend, Captain Rogers, to bring it with him when he joins us?”

Weasel man thinks he's so clever. It's difficult not to roll his eyes. The simplicity of the plan is so see-through, there is no way Steve will fall for it. Too smart. Right? Right.

"So what, it's going to be you and me waiting in a cave until somebody shows up to rescue me? I've seen that one. You aren't going to like how it ends."

Zemo’s smirk is almost jubilant. “Who will Captain Rogers come to rescue, do you think? For whom will he throw away his life’s work, his loyalty, his reputation, the very patriotism that defines him? You?” His smirk widens into a cold smile. “You’re thinking, ‘Captain Rogers would not come for me. His brilliant tactical mind would see a trap.’ And you may be right, Mr. Stark.” He looks over at the pilot. “But perhaps there is someone he cares for so much that he would throw both caution and tactical logic to the wind.” That smirk again. “Perhaps it is not yourself.”

"I think you’re missing the point," Tony says. Man this is so amateur.  Or maybe it was the fact that the rodent wasn't intimidating at all. "You ever kidnapped anybody before?" Because he isn't very good at it. Maybe it’s that he's Tony Stark and he's seen just about every form of manipulation now.

Would it hurt if the guy was right? Absolutely. Would it surprise him? It shouldn't.  But if that's what weasel face is banking on he hasn't done the proper amount of research.

Zemo’s smirk remains. "Have I? Perhaps you would care to enlighten me."

"I'll let you figure it out on your own."  Tony has nothing to say to the asshole. Doesn't want to look at him. If he's planting seeds of doubt in his head, maybe it's working. Maybe he should have known. Suspected something. Things have been weird since D.C., and he knows it.

Zemo sees he’s gotten to Stark, and so he sits back and relaxes with a self-satisfied smirk, letting the man stew in his own juices. They have hours yet to fly, which means plenty of time for Stark to think over his words.

When the dog announces they are nearing the coordinates, he rises to put on his cold weather gear. The landing is rough, but what’s left of the Hydra air strip is covered in ice-packed snow. The seatbelts help, and it’s no worse than other missions he’s led. Outside the air is painful to breathe. He lets the Soldier lead the way in case of traps, and waits, watching Stark, while the dog puts in the door code. All the better that he remembers it; this way he doesn’t have to pull out the book and risk frostbite to his fingers. The facility door is frozen shut, but the Soldier comes in handy for that as well, pushing it back, the metal groaning and ice cracking, until there is room for them to enter.

Inside, the base is pitch dark. If the lights are still functional, the generator needed to turn them on, to run everything but emergency systems, will need to be started up. He takes out his flashlight, shining it at the metal walls surrounding them, and a steel staircase leading down. “Go,” he orders the Soldier. “Take Stark with you.” In the dark, holding the light, it will be more difficult for him to keep an eye on their guest. Let the dog do his job.  

Bucky steps up to Tony, ice crystals clinging to his hair. He’s wearing nothing but the jeans and red shirt he was captured in, in spite of the subzero temperatures. He grips Tony’s upper arm with his metal hand, firm but gentle, and leads the way down the stairs. It’s so dark you can’t see your hand before your eyes, but he moves confidently, Zemo following behind them.

It's bitterly cold and Tony hates the cold. Bad memories attached to the cold. This is why he needs his suit. The hand he can feel seeping into his coat, making him colder. He shivers, glances back at Weasel face. "I can fix the generators. Otherwise you and me are dead. Come on, is this really your plan?”

"What's wrong, Mr. Stark, did we not dress you warmly enough?" Zemo sneers. _"Take me to the Records room,"_ he orders the Soldier in Russian.

It's a long, cold, dark trip. Zemo's flashlight hardly makes a difference, but Bucky holds onto Tony so he doesn't stumble. Finally they stop in front of a set of double doors.

"So you want to be dead, okay. Well I don't. Generators. Take me to the generators."

Both men ignore Tony as Zemo pushes the doors open, looking through to rows and rows of industrial shelves containing box after labeled box. “If you will excuse me for a bit, Mr. Stark...” He steps inside.

 _“Get the power online. All of it,”_ he tells the Soldier in Russian. _“And take Stark with you, but watch him carefully. He’ll no doubt be interested in the facility’s systems.”_

The Soldier nods, dragging Tony off down another pitch dark corridor. He seems to know where he’s going, with or without light to see by.

Tony limps along beside him in the cold. "Could you hold on with the other arm? The--Um, the non prosthetic one."

The Soldier grabs him with the other hand, swinging Tony around to the opposite side of his body none-too-gently and continuing on.

And now they're alone. "I can speak Russian you know. He isn't hiding anything from me."

There are things the Soldier could say to that. That he knows. That Zemo, too, knows this. But it’s not his place to give away the commander’s secrets or his own. So he keeps walking, finally making it to the generator room. The machines are here. Everything is here, but not so much as an emergency light. Even he doesn’t know what switches to throw in the dark. He starts opening panels by feel, hoping for one that’s lit up from within.

Tony doesn't yelp or whine but it feels unpleasant. Standing in the dark is colder still and he leans against the soldier. For warmth. Even if he isn't wearing layers or anything to warm him, Tony wonders if he'll even need them.

What is the hostage doing? “Cold?” he asks. He lets go Tony’s arm and drapes his own around him. Maybe his body can impart some warmth through all those thermal layers the hostage is wearing, but he doubts it. The Soldier keeps feeling along the panels, opening one after the other.

Tony nods a fraction and suddenly he's being pulled along.

Finally the Asset finds some with buttons that are lit. They provide enough light for him to see just enough of what he’s doing. The emergency backup generators are in good order. He turns one of the off-line ones on and dim lights come up in the electrical room. That will make things easier.

Light! The snow crystals in the soldier's hair look beautiful. Tony reaches to caress them, unsure why.

The Soldier gives him a sharp look. Why is he being intimate? Did he encourage the hostage in some way? Oh, his arm. He lets go, turning on the necessary systems, looking dubiously at the old furnace.

It’s the cold, surely. It's no fun to be cold like that. Tony remembers. He's cold but he hates being shuffled around more then anything else. Now that he can see, he can be useful, turning lights on and pushing circuit breakers, as much as the soldier will allow anyway.

The Soldier stops him before he can do too much. Just the bare minimum is needed here. He won't risk accidentally diverting power from the cryopods. Holding Tony's hands, he nods to the battered old furnace. If the hostage can get it working, they'll all be more comfortable. Though it never worked well on its best days.

Tony nods. He can do it but why is Barnes holding his hand like that? He has gloves on. It's fine, it's just the cold, does funny things to you. "You got a light Barnes? Pilot light’s out."

The Soldier lets go of Tony to search his person, in case there’s some match or lighter he forgot he’d had. But coming straight from prisoner holding, not so much. With a sigh, he takes out the chocolate, peels back the paper and twists it together into a wick. Then he twists the tinfoil around the bottom to keep the light from going out too quickly. That done, he lifts his shirt, revealing the fly of his jeans and a dark strip of glory trail. Holding the twist of paper in his right hand, he unbuttons his fly and uses just the right amount of pressure to drag a metal finger down the teeth of his zipper. It only takes two tries before this effort produces a spark, which he catches with the paper, creating flame. He holds it out to Tony, lowering his shirt once more.

 _Don't stare don't stare don't stare._ Tony’s totally not staring. "That's one way to light a match." He swallows hard, taking the makeshift wick and lighting the pilot light.


	2. The Taste of Blood and Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a few minutes of alone time with Barnes in the old Hydra base, it's up to Tony to de-program the Winter Soldier. He's doing pretty well when they get caught. While Bucky gets punished in the chair, Tony thaws the other super soldiers to throw a monkey wrench into Zemo's plans. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actualjohnwatson would like you all to know she was on a lot of medication for parts of this chapter.

The soldier watches carefully to make sure the flame doesn’t go out before the pilot is lit.

"You’re supposed to eat this, you know.” Tony takes the unwrapped piece of chocolate from Barnes’ fingers, holding it up. “Food. Your body needs it to survive or you'll shut down?" He's watched Cap push himself and crash enough times to know that not eating is fucking unpleasant.

The Soldier just stares at him, silent. He knows it was meant to appear as food. But is it poisoned? Has it been treated in some way? Why would the hostage give him food? Which one of them is the hostage here?

There is the smell of burning dust and smoke, the thump as the furnace comes to life. Relief. _Don't hug it,_ Tony thinks. _Don't hug the soldier either._

All it needed was the pilot lit? The Soldier frowns. He could have done that. Now he’s a bit annoyed.

Tony pops the little piece of chocolate into his mouth and closes his eyes. So good. What are the odds?

He starts when the prisoner casually eats his gift. That’s his! What...what is he doing? That’s something one of his handlers would have done. The Soldier watches the hostage chew and swallow it, sullen.

Tony takes another piece out of his pocket and gives it to the soldier. "Try it. Come on. Chocolate. Good. Eat up."

The Soldier turns his back on the hostage, quickly eating it before he can take it away again. It’s frozen, takes time to warm up in his mouth. The taste is...old. The integrity of the cocoa fat has aged past its ability to maintain its temper.

But this is a memory. He closes his eyes. This is something he enjoys eating. Something he enjoys. Enjoyment. It’s personal, and that’s wrong. That’s very wrong here. Other things he personally likes: “Steve.” He says it very quietly, but it’s deafening in the complex. Not a word that can be spoken here, or a feeling that can be had.

Speaking this word here always comes with punishment. The Soldier whimpers, sagging against the wall of control panels, curling in on himself, trying to avoid the punishment, but unable not to anticipate it.

Tony grabs for his shoulders, tries to keep him steady.  Is he having some kind of episode? "You wanna sit down?" He broke the Winter Soldier. Not in the way he'd wanted.

A soft groan is Tony’s only response as the Soldier sinks to the floor in a semi-fetal position.

"More?" Tony shoves the food into his hands, watching him with wide worried eyes. If he has an episode and loses it, then it's just Tony and Weasel face. But if Tony can get him to cooperate, well…

The Soldier drops the chocolate. No more memories. Memories cause systems malfunction. And punishment. _No more._

Tony picks it up, shoving it back in his pocket.

Okay. Okay, this is fine. Barnes is his only chance at escape, but it's fine. "Sit back against the wall, old man. Tell Tony what's going on?" Cold? Tony hesitates for a moment and pulls his glove off, touches Barnes’ face, watches his pupils. "What do you need?"

The Soldier looks up at Tony like an abused animal waiting for another beating. Perhaps if he makes nice with this handler… He covers Tony’s hand with his own, closing his eyes and pressing his cheek against Tony’s hand.

Tony knows exactly what it is, and it hurts. He needs Steve. The way he called for him. But he has to separate the pain from what he's doing now. Now he's staying alive. Put it in a box. "What do you need to do, Barnes?"

“ _Don’t hurt_ ,” he begs Tony in Russian. _“I'll be good_.”

This touching. It feels funny. Feels good. Warm. He runs his thumb over Barnes' cheek. Enjoys the texture there. It's still cold. So cold. He leans his forehead against Barnes' temple. "I won't hurt you, Barnes. You'll be okay."

That's not a response he's ever heard before. "Mission?" He asks, looking up into Tony's eyes.

"Let's get out of here, huh? Leave that creep here on his own. You and me can go." And when he's back in the air he can call somebody to get Weasel face.

The soldier blinks, brow furrowing. That’s not an order, and it directly contradicts the last mission he was given. No, that can’t be right. “No,” he says, gripping Tony’s hand. “Steve.” Steve has to come first. When Steve comes, it will be better.

Tony wants to cry. They were so close to getting out. "Steve might take days to get here."

The Soldier shakes his head. Steve is close. He’s already looking for them. An untrustworthy memory pops into his head. He hurt...Steve? “No…” He holds his head, doubling up again. “No...Steve...will come.”

"Okay. Okay he'll come. He'll figure it out. He's a smart cookie."

Maybe...but either way, he’ll come. The Soldier knows that. The commander needs him.

Tony's going to die here. He can't even get the brainwashed assassin to help him out. "Are you hurting? Can I see?" He looks like a terrified, broken animal.

Being asked to comply with an examination is normal. The soldier lowers his hands and looks up. There’s not much he can see of Tony but his nose and a bit of his eyes hidden in the parka’s hood. He _could_ be a Hydra agent.

Barnes is disoriented and overwhelmed. He looks lost. Tony shakes his head. "You wanna wait for Rogers? Fine, but that weasel isn't in charge. I want you to grab him and tie him up. Make sure his mouth is taped for good measure. Then you and I can talk. Sound like a plan?"

The Soldier looks up at him, sadly. No, this is not his handler. Though somehow he wishes it was. His head turns toward the door a second before Zemo walks in.

“Well, well. It seems the two of you are getting friendly.” His smile is full of sick amusement. “I hope you can look back on this moment fondly after I give you your message, Mr. Stark. Speaking of which, I’ve found what I came for. We will proceed.” He takes a satellite phone out of his parka pocket, holding it out to Tony. “If you would do the honors, Mr. Stark. Please ask Captain Rogers to join us. Tell him he must come alone and tell no one, or I will kill his friend.”

 _Break the habit, Barnes, come on._ Tony watches The soldier a moment, glances at Weasel face. _Destroy. Kill. Whatever. Rebel._

Bucky stares back at Tony, a secret pleading in his eyes. If Tony can bring Steve...he will make it alright again.

Tony’s ESP doesn't seem to be working. He sighs, takes the phone, and dials, waiting for a pick up.  He doesn't know what he's suppose to say _._

Steve picks up on the second ring. “Hello.” His tone is curt, businesslike. He knows it’s a ransom call. There’s tension there, but he has it under control for now.

"You didn't give me the coordinates.” He's not rolling his eyes. But he is staring at the creep like he's stupid. "This guy didn't give me the coordinates, Steve. He's a complete amateur at this stuff. You're suppose to come pick me up." Tony swallows. "And Barnes. And if you could bring me something to wear that would be lovely. But again. I'm not really sure where you're supposed to go. The big dumb idiot forgot to tell me." He's gonna get hit. That's fine. He’s braced himself.

While Tony was dialing, Zemo was typing into a second cell phone, an oldschool flip phone. He smirks when Tony starts complaining to Steve, holding up the phone, showing the coordinates for the base. “You will want him to bring your suit,” he says. “I think you may find you have need of it later.” He glances over at the Soldier, who is staring at the ground, straining to hear Steve’s voice on the other end of the line. “Don’t forget my conditions.” 

"I already asked him for the suit." Tony says, trying for exasperated. _It's a show, make him angry. Make him slip up.“_ He doesn't listen, Cap. It's like kindergarten levels of villainy."

Steve is listening hard, both to the things Tony’s saying and the things he’s not saying. Trying to take in any background noises that will give him clues.

Tony reads out the coordinates. And then as light as he can make it, "He says if you don't come alone, or you tell anybody, he'll kill your--Barnes." Something's coming dislodged in his chest. "Your friend." Not Tony. Nope. Tony's second hand. Cast off. Unwanted.

“It’s gonna be okay, Tony,” Steve offers, matter-of-factly. This is a mission now, he has his orders. He knows Tony’s scared, that he’s probably having flashbacks to the last time he was taken hostage. But there’s not much Steve can do given the unsecured line of communication. “I’ll be there, soon.”

Tony clings to the sound of Steve’s voice like it's a security blanket. Like it could wrap arms around him. "Yeah, well, whatever. Just be careful." _I love you._

Steve wants to make a joke, to say he’s always careful, but again, this isn’t a private conversation. He passes the phone off to Nat, who has some tracer tech. He and Sam need to go suit up.

“Very good, Mr. Stark. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Zemo smiles, thinking of what they’ll do while they wait. Zemo takes the phone away and shuts it off.

Tony says nothing. Draining. It was draining.

The Soldier has been listening. He knows there will have been other people listening on the other end of the line. But Zemo should know that, too. He hasn’t been ordered to point out any pitfalls in the commander’s plan; in fact, the commander has told him nothing more of his plan than what his orders entailed. So he waits, gears turning. Something is wrong here. But is it intentionally wrong?

Zemo turns to the Soldier. “I hope you’re not allowing our guest to influence you in any way. Should I be concerned about your loyalty?”

The Soldier just stares at him. The hostage...he’s already been confused once. “Yes,” he answers honestly, as he’s been trained.

Zemo frowns, sizing him up. His loyalty can’t be that questionable, because he hasn’t done anything to protest yet. “Perhaps a reminder, then, of who is in charge here.” He nods at Tony. “Take him and follow me.” He leads the way down into the belly of the base, to the laboratory.

Weasel face is in front so Tony takes the opportunity to try to speak to Barnes.

No jacket. No gloves. He wonders if Barnes can even tell the difference.  Well. It's a little warmer in here. He takes his gloves off and takes the soldiers hand. Morse code worked in the plane.

_Steve's coming. That's great isn't it?_

Bucky nearly panics when Tony touches him again. What is he doing? But he doesn't pull away. _Stop_ , he taps back. Why does the hostage keep trying to confuse him?

 

Finally they're standing in the converted missile silo. The life pods are dark, but the machine gleams threateningly in the center of the chamber. The Soldier quickly lets go of Tony's hand. No need to make it worse. He knows what's about to happen.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Zemo  asks, walking around the contraption. "A device that makes you forget. How much would some pay for the privilege, do you think?"

Tony shakes his head.  He doesn't want to forget. Can't forget. That was the whole point. Take responsibility for the mistakes he's made.

"I don't think you know what you’re doing." Dangerous. And stupid.

“Well, but the instructions are very clear,” Zemo says, pulling out the book. As he turns to the right page, he tells the Soldier, without looking up, “Sit down.”

Bucky’s body thrums with anxiety. But this was bound to happen. He’s survived this before. Jaw clenched, body rigid, he steps down into the pit and takes a seat inside the dusty machine. Zemo walks to one of the consoles, turning the power on and looking at the readings on some of the dials.

This is going to ruin all of his progress with Barnes and he's worked extremely hard for the small connection he'd garnered. That's his only plan of escape. Keep the soldier on his side.

Panic. Just below the surface. _Push it down_. Tony's got to think this through. Got to come up with a plan. Something clever.

There's no time.

Tony runs. He runs back to the generator room. He knows where that machine is hidden and he knows he can shut power down to the basement. If Weasel face sends Barnes after him, even better. He's out of the chair and can be reasoned with.

Zemo sighs. “Get him,” he says, bored.

The Soldier doesn’t have to be told twice to get out of the chair. He leaps into action, sprinting after the hostage. He isn’t trying to get away. The only useful room he knows is the generator room. And if he shuts off the power to the lab, he’ll shut down the cryo pods as well. Bucky stretches his legs, moving fast to stop five murders.

He can hear Barnes’ foot falls after him. Tony lives with Steve Rogers. He knows he's not going to out run a super soldier. He just has to make it out of earshot of Weasel face. He turns a corner and stops.

The Soldier can hear he’s stopped running before he gets there. What is the hostage doing? Does he have a weapon? Is he planning an ambush? He peers around the corner, curious.

When he sees Barnes turn the corner, Tony raises his hands to his chest. "Wait, Barnes. Look. I'm not going to hurt you. I won't hurt you. Look at me. Stay with me."

“Don’t hurt them,” the Soldier says.

"Hurt who? I don't want to hurt anybody. But I'm sure your--whatever, your boss doesn't give a shit." His hands stay up. "I don't want him to hurt you."

The Soldier thinks. He doesn’t like the machine, even if he does deserve it. But what to do? They need to wait for Steve. Without going in the machine. A stall. He looks at Tony. “Can you activate awakening?” But subtly. If the other soldiers wake up without Zemo noticing, maybe he won’t be able to control them. But then would Tony be safe? Is it too much of a risk?

"I don't know what that is, honey." Tony closes his eyes, embarrassed. He's tired, that's all. And cold. And his wrist hurts. It's a stupid slip up.  Doesn't mean anything. 

"If you tell me what that is I can figure it out. We don't need that creep coming in here and messing everything up though."

“They’re sleeping.” He’s trying to explain, but his mouth feels like it’s full of molasses. Hard to talk. “He wants them.” And no one ever wants them for good ends. “If you can wake them up while he’s distracted, maybe he won’t control them.” He can be the distraction. He was going to go into the machine anyway.

"More soldiers?" He asks. Gotta be.

Bucky nods.

"Where are the controls?"

He shakes his head. “In the room.” But maybe there’s a back way from the generator room. Maybe.

"Fuck. Of course they are." Tony stops, stares at Barnes hard. "Distract him how?"

“The machine,” Bucky says. He doesn’t know how to use it yet. That should take some concentration on Zemo’s part.

"What's it do to you? We don't want you to hurt anymore, do we Barnes?”

The Soldier shrugs.  

“Is it going to make you stop being my friend?" He needs Barnes if he's going to escape.

“I’m not,” he says. But that’s not quite true. Something has changed between them.

Tony rips off his glove, places a hand on Barnes' cheek. " _Don't want to hurt you,"_ he says in Russian for good measure.

Barnes shrugs, steps back from the contact. “Can’t hurt me.” Pain is irrelevant to Winter Soldier.

"My ally." Friend is--he's trying too hard.

The soldier doesn’t have allies. But this is still confusing. He’s not sure who’s commanding him now, Zemo or Stark. It feels like neither of them.

"I don't want to erase whatever it is I have with you. I need you to get out of this, Barnes. And you--you need Steve right?"  And that's fine. Doesn't hurt.

The Soldier’s brow furrows. Need Steve? No. That’s not right either.

Back to the point: “Can you do something?” Stark is supposed to be smart, right?

"I'll do what I can but I can't guarantee anything with that creep still hovering around."

The Soldier nods. That will have to be good enough. “Pretend to be unconscious.” That way, Zemo won’t need him tied up.

Tony nods, and braces himself for being picked up.

Bucky bends down and carefully puts Tony over his shoulder, carrying him back.

So annoying. Barnes sure is warm, though.

 

When they return, Zemo has the machine up and running. “Why did it take you so long?” he demands. Bucky has no answer for him. He carries Tony over to Josef’s cryopod and lays him down next to it, trying to make his choice look random. Then he pulls zip ties out of his pocket, pretending to tie him up again.

“Don’t bother,” Zemo says, impatient. “Even if he runs away again, he can’t get far.” Bucky slips the pocket-sized utility kit he took from Tony in the helicopter between his pretend-bound hands and straightens up. Nods at the commander. Then he slowly walks back to the chair, hoping Zemo will have changed his mind.

“What do you think?” Zemo asks him. “Will you need the straps?” Bucky shakes his head no. “Then I suppose we’d better use them.” Bucky sighs, waiting while Zemo binds him to the chair.

Listening to the exchange, Tony rolls his eyes. He's such a creepy asshole. He's not even remotely scary. Tony wants to punch him.

He glances up. Another frozen, overly musceled, soldier. Just his luck. Tony tucks himself close to the access panel and begins to work. What's keeping him frozen, and can he dismantle it? He thinks so. The tech is so old and simple it's not really a challenge. The tank is perspiring in a few minutes.

He's wondering how to sneak over to the next one when he hears Barnes start to scream. Tony’s heart sinks. He quietly makes his way to the next pod, and the next. Now that he knows exactly what to dismantle, it goes very quickly. And Weasel face is too distracted by Barnes to pay any attention to him.

It's sick, what he's doing. Tony tries very hard not to listen. But that proves impossible.

 

*

 

Something is wrong with the machine. Likely it’s been sitting here too long, untended, abandoned in subzero temperatures. It hurts, but not in the usual way. Not worse or better, just different. But soon Bucky can’t do anything but scream, regardless of the change. He can only hope Tony can wake the sleepers. If they wake without programming, they will default to emergency protocols, which are to eliminate enemy agents. Tony poses no threat to them, and is a valuable hostage, but Zemo is armed, and he is not here to serve Hydra. All Bucky can do is hope he calculated correctly.

 

*

 

This is not the way to wake from sleep. Immediately #1 senses something is wrong. He focuses on increasing his pulse, getting feeling back in his limbs. And he calls to the others to wake.

 

*

 

Zemo is confused by the readings on the machine. How much is the right amount? Some of the dials aren’t even showing information. Perhaps he should stop. Is it enough? One way to find out. He turns it off, and caged lightning snakes across the delivery device one last time before it withdraws. With a screech and a clank, the claw stops, hovering halfway to its resting position. What is it with this subpar equipment? Hydra was such a joke.

He walks toward the Soldier, watching him carefully, and begins to recite the formula to call him to heel.

But he’s interrupted by the crash of shattered glass. One of the mutants has escaped its frozen cage. Zemo draws his gun and fires, catching it in the arm, in the chest, but it keeps coming. Why did he wait to exterminate them? He was having too much fun with his captives.

 

Tony keeps going, working on the last tank until it's disabled as well.  After that, all he can do is watch and play dead.

 

A supersoldier can take a bullet, but maybe not a full clip. Josef ducks behind the machine, disappearing--at least to Zemo’s eyes. Zemo runs for the launch chamber, locking himself in.

“You don’t know what you’ve done, Mr. Stark,” he says through the mic. “These mutants, they’re a scourge that needs to be wiped from the earth. Why do you enable them? You’re betraying your own species.”

Bucky’s not good for much, sitting in the chair, shivering and sweating.

"My own species?" Tony grumbles, rolling his eyes. He makes his way to the chair, to Barnes.

A muscular arm shoots out from under the chair, grabbing Tony’s leg and yanking him down onto the floor to grab him by the throat. There's nothing he can do. He scratches and kicks and fights as long as he can but darkness is taking over his sight.

Josef identifies his victim. Not a threat. He lets Tony go, waiting for the others to wake.

 

Zemo is not happy. None of this is proceeding according to his plan. But he can still make it work. When Rogers arrives, he’ll tell him that the Soldier killed his lover. He won’t be able to seek revenge without killing his childhood friend. And maybe--just maybe Captain America won’t stand a chance against the other mutants. To kill both leaders of the Avengers in one day will be an accomplishment. Again, not his exact plan, but… He sits down in the chair, gets comfortable. It should only be a few hours now before the captain arrives.

 

Under the chair, Josef snarls at the old model in Russian. “ _Useless has-been. Get me a med kit._ ”

Bucky’s ears are ringing. He can’t see. Shots were fired. Is Zemo dead? Is...Tony dead? “Stark?” he gasps, throat dry and cracked from screaming.

Tony sits up. He can do little else. "Barnes?" He croaks, surprised that Bucky remembers him. "Here. Semi-here."   _Breathe. In through your nose our through your mouth._ At least Barnes remembers him.

Bucky shakily gets out of the chair, reaching blindly for one of them. _“Down, you idiot!”_ Josef hisses. _“What other weapons does he have?”_

Bucky sits down hard on the floor. _“Just a handgun. Unless he found one of the weapons stashes.”_

 _“Follow orders,”_ Josef growls.

_“I...can’t see.”_

"Where-" Tony coughs, reaching for Bucky's shoulder and using Morse code.

Bucky reaches for Tony, wanting to feel something familiar that’s not Hyra-related.

_Where are the medical supplies?_

_Turn right second door left._ Supply closets are everywhere in the base if you know the patterns.

A hiss of hydraulics heralds #2’s awakening. She drops to the ground and leopard-crawls toward them, her muscles still waking up.

 _Okay. Side-step that one._ Tony walks behind the chair and around the other two on the ground.

 

Josef is focused on the others, and lets Stark leave. _“He’ll bring the med kit,”_ Bucky says. Of course, there’s a chance he might not. Tony might just keep going, climb up to the plane and fly away. But somehow...Bucky doesn’t think so.

 _“Why?”_ Josef sounds suspicious.

_“Common enemy.”_

_“Explain.”_

As #3 wakes up, Bucky explains quickly how they got here. He doesn’t know Zemo’s plan, just what he was asked to do.

Tony's watching for Weasel face, listening for him, but he reaches the supply closet without incident and grabs several med kits . He knows how to use this stuff but he's going to throw it at the soldiers and back away slowly. If Barnes needs help, that's a different story.

Bucky hears Tony’s footsteps, then the clatter of med kits sliding across the floor.

“You would help these monsters, Mr. Stark? I thought you were supposed to be one of the world’s great geniuses.” Zemo is not happy. Not only is Stark alive, he seems to have taken the mutants’ side. Again.

Tony backs up and away. Closer to Barnes. Reaching for his shoulders.  Even if Barnes can't move, can't help him, he feels safer here.

Bucky feels better with Tony behind him. He can at least try to protect him now, whatever happens.

"Who's the monster here?” Tony asks. “The man who kidnaps and tortures people or some prisoners of war?" It wasn’t Barnes’ choice to be here. He doubts the other five had a choice.

“They’re not homo sapiens like you and I, Mr. Stark. I think they’ve fooled you into thinking they are like us. Perhaps this will make it clear.”

Zemo has had enough. If these damned mutants are going to ruin his plans, he’s going to reveal what he’s been keeping up his sleeve. It would be better if Rogers were here, if Stark were armed with his suit, but no matter. Nothing good can come of waiting any longer.

The TV screens around the lab flare to life, their screens momentarily filled with static. He adjusts the tracking on the VCR, and the film begins to play.


	3. Titanium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Tony have to find a way to escape the Hydra base in Siberia, and the five super soldiers coming for them. But after Zemo shows Tony the video of December 16, 1991, Tony's will to survive takes a serious beating.

Tony steps forward. Fascinated in that sick car crash kind of way. The cold isn't helping. He knows exactly what's on the screen. Feels the bile rising in his throat. "What's going on?"

Bucky is listening carefully. Zemo is showing him something. Video? His vision is slowly beginning to return. Then he hears it: the sound of his old motorcycle. _Oh no._

The other soldiers are busy, #2 bandaging up Josef, #3 gone to look for weapons, #4 gone to hack the lock on the control room, #5 still waking up. They don’t care about any of this, except that the intruders are both distracted. Where did Tony go? Bucky can’t protect him if he’s not close.

He remembers driving there in a stupor. In pajamas and flimsy slippers. He’d spent the first few hours mapping the whole road, looking for pieces from the crash. Walking it up and down until he couldn't walk anymore. Jarvis had  found him comatose in his own car, half dead.

Yes. He knows this road.

Barnes. The--the soldier. Tony doesn't look at him. He can't look away anyway. He watches his father crawl out of the car injured but alive.

 

*

 

 _Oh no._ He remembers this. Zemo had asked about it: December 16, 1991. It’s...Howard Stark. And his wife. His brain slowly, slowly processes that they must have been Tony’s parents. Bucky can see fuzzy images now, but he leaves his gaze on the floor. Stark won’t want Bucky to protect him now. He understands Zemo’s plan now--or part of it. Get Tony to kill him...maybe in front of Steve? Well, at least Steve won’t be here to see it now.  

This is hard. He’s never had his crimes replayed for him like this. At least, not that the Soldier remembers.

 

*

 

Tony hears his mother cry for him. And then she stops.

He backs away, pulls completely away from the chair. Where'd Weaselface go? Because he needs to wale on something and he's available. The shock of watching them die, it's overwhelming. Worse knowing that they suffered. Losing them all over again. Barnes--he can't really do anything to Barnes, surrounded by other soldiers with no suit. Tony scans the room for Zemo. He won't be that hard to disarm. It's just locating him.

Unfortunately, Zemo is safely tucked away in the control room. “Do you understand now, Mr. Stark? I am merely a friend, trying to help you see the truth.”

#3 returns with a grenade launcher. He sets up the tripod and fires at the reinforced glass.

Hearing the blast, Bucky looks up, casts around for Tony. He runs to him, knocking him down, shielding him with his body.

Zemo hardly even blinks. “This room was made to withstand the power of rocket launches. I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that.” He raises his cup of coffee in a toast to the mutants.

Josef stands up, bandages bloody, but defiant. #3 hands out the arsenal he’s retrieved from one of the weapons rooms, and the four of them start shooting the glass with everything they have.

 

Tony pushes at Barnes with his good hand. "Off!" He's fine. Unaffected by the blast, or he's trying to be. "Get off." He’s a solid 75% steel willpower at this point. Can’t afford to be anything else. Can’t afford to be human.

The hail of bullets and grenades, even a RPG is creating quite a fallout, pieces of cement and metal, bullets ricocheting. Bucky’s already bleeding in several places from the damage being done by the others. Tony may hate him, may want him to stop touching him, but he’ll die if a sharp shard comes flying at him wrong.

Tony sits up, but Bucky presses him up against the wall, still shielding him, starting to bleed through his shirt.

He still can't look Barnes in the eye. Too angry. Too full of adrenaline. "Get me up there. Get me to the door. I can break the lock. Help me."

Bucky can count. One of the 5 is missing. And he knows the way this team works: they have a hive mind. Josef doesn’t have to speak to give his team orders. “We have to leave,” he tells Tony. Now, while the team and Zemo are distracted, is their best chance. Bucky knows what infiltration protocol is, and he gives Tony about a 50-50 chance of being taken hostage or killed. He starts to inch them closer to the doors.

"No! I'm not leaving! Get me to the door!"

“It’s done!” Bucky tells him, still trying to drag Tony to safety. He's pulling at his arm.

But Tony is pushing Barnes away. "Stop! Let me go!" He knees him in the groin, scratching at his hand. "I'm not leaving."

Bucky grunts in pain. Why is Stark making this so hard? Doesn’t he understand?

The exit door to the silo slides shut with a bang. “Leaving so soon, Mr. Stark?” Zemo asks him. “But the fun has yet to truly begin.” He’s talking like the glass in front of him isn’t taking any damage from the onslaught. “Did you wonder how I found out about December 16, 1991? Yes, it was mentioned in the encoded Hydra files your friends dumped onto the internet two years ago. But I also found records of the Zola program giving Captain Rogers this specific information shortly before SHIELD fell. That’s curious, don’t you think? Why would your good friend withhold this information from you? That is, if he truly values your friendship, as another human being would.”

Bucky runs to the missile lever, pulling it and grabbing Tony as the top of the silo rises. At the same time, the door to the control room slides open, and #4 calmly enters and breaks Zemo’s neck. Bucky starts to climb to the top, to escape, which is hard to do while dragging a struggling Tony behind him. “Come on!” he whispers, urgently. They’re out of time.

 

*

 

 _He knew. He knew and he held you and kissed you and fucked you. Loved you like nothing was wrong._  Tony sags for a moment, and it's only Barnes holding him up.

"No!" What's the point now? He could try to fight the Soldier without his armor. Surely only death awaits him. Tony scratches harder at Barnes' hand and arm. "Let go. Let me go. I don't care anymore."

 _Great,_ Bucky thinks. _Well, what’s a little more damage?_ “I do!” he tells Stark, pulling him along with brute strength as he jumps from platform to platform. Bucky won’t knock him out again, but he will get them out of here. After that, Stark can decide what he wants to do.

The other soldiers have noticed their absence. The ones with ammunition left turn it on Bucky. #4 sprints out of the control room in pursuit, and he’s not burdened with a reluctant hostage like Bucky is. “Please!” Bucky begs Tony. “Let me do this!”

 

*

 

He'll be a human shield. _Come on Barnes, let me be a human shield._ "Please. Please, just let me go."

“No,” Bucky tells him, determined. But damn, he’s making this hard.

Tony has resorted to begging. "What's the point? Get out. Go be with--" He tries, but the words don't come out. "Go be free."

“You don’t mean that.” And Bucky doesn’t deserve it. At this rate, if they make it to the plane, it’ll be a miracle.

Tries to climb Barnes like a tree. He's a big enough target now.

Bucky tries to hang onto Tony as he moves, and then he realizes Tony **is** hanging on. What is he doing? Trying to become a human shield? _You crazy sonuvabitch._ Lucky for Tony, the other soldiers haven’t discounted his value. They’re aiming for Bucky, and they’re sure-shots.

The two of them just barely make it to the top just as #2 hits Bucky in the chest, puncturing a lung. He pushes on, flying over the top, then takes off running in the snow. It’s a race now. But Bucky’s injured and carrying Tony.

#4 is in good shape, apart from having woken up less than an hour ago. He catches them easily, knocking Bucky down. He skids across the ice, trying to take the brunt of the fall so that he doesn’t hurt Tony. Then Bucky stands up and squares off against #4. Maybe he can give Tony enough time to get to the plane before the others come.

"Are there weapons on the plane?" Maybe Tony can get there and try to...help Barnes. He's a pretty good shot. They don't go down after one, but that's okay. Tony does.

“Yes, go!” Bucky ducks a punch and goes in for one of his own. But he’s losing strength. He focuses on keeping #4 busy, tackling and wrestling him in the snow.

Tony sprints to the door and climbs in. If he was an idiot trying to hide weapons, where would they be? _Under the floorboards._ No. Barnes must have hidden them. _Under the seats._

 _Ha! Wait--fuck._ This is going to fuck up his wrist even more. He chooses one with the least amount of kickback, grabs something for Barnes and shoves a bunch of cartridges into his pocket.

Ready now, Tony steps out into the snow, lays Barnes' gun out in front of him and fires a warning. "Come get me, fucker."

Bucky is slowly making his way over, knocking #4 down and running a few feet before he catches him again, getting more and more tired each time. As Tony shoots at them, the other four emerge from the silo, moving toward the plane and shooting back.

What is Stark doing? “Start the engine!” Bucky shouts. Does he honestly think he can take on all five of them? He gives up trying to knock #4 out, just grabs him in a headlock and starts sprinting for the plane. #4 is surprised enough that he lets Bucky make quite a bit of progress before he knocks him down again.

While Josef, #2, and #3 move within shooting range, aiming for Bucky, #5 sprints full-tilt toward Tony.

Tony focuses on the one coming towards him and he's not a bad shot. One down, he focuses on the one after Barnes. It's like a bad zombie movie. Maybe that's why he feels like Elizabeth Bennett, and it's not the complete betrayal he's feeling.

 _Start the plane?_ Start the plane. Yeah. That's a better idea. "Then you better limp over here, because if not I’m leaving your ass!" _Start the plane, okay._  Back inside, he turns the engine on. Lights. Engine. All the things. Then goes back to the door to wait for Barnes.

Tony gets a good enough hit in that Bucky can drop #4 and limp to the assault rifle lying on the ground. He picks it up just as the others get in range. They hit him, but he blocks a couple with his arm, then hits back. Bucky’s vision is starting to blur.

Shooting a window of time, Bucky limps toward the door, bleeding profusely from a neck wound. He falls toward Tony, unable to climb in on his own.

Well. Tony's fucked up his wrist already with the shooting. _Whatever._ He drags Barnes into the plane. Drags him to the cockpit. Drags him up in the copilot seat and runs to shut the door. Barnes looks bad. Really bad.

Stark sits next to him and prepares for take-off.  Bucky’s not really sure where they're going, but at least they have enough gas--

Then Bucky realizes: he's letting Steve come here. Alone.

"Barnes?"

Bullets ping against the plane, the other super soldier’s injured but not down. Bucky raises his hand to put pressure on the wound in his neck, trying to get it together. “Go,” he croaks. “Before they hit the--”

The whole plane rocks as #2 jumps onto the wing, ripping the door open. Bucky grabs the gun Tony dropped, turning and shooting at her. "Gogogogo!"

Tony takes off, way too fast. Rocking the plane and getting airborne as quickly as possible. Hopefully, that and the whole shooting her thing will have her flying out the door in no time.

#2 drops off, but the plane rocks so quickly, Bucky goes falling out the door, too. He catches himself on the edges, struggling to pull himself back in.  

"You wanted me to wake them up?!" Tony shouts over the and turbine engines.

With a loud grunt, he drags himself back inside and slams the door shut behind. “It took care of him, didn’t it?” They’re still shooting at the plane. And from the sound of it, one of them just hit the gas tank. _Shit._ Bucky slaps his hand back  over the neck wound and crawls forward to look at their heading.

Now is not the time for panic, Tony thinks. "I'm not going to be stuck in the snow, Barnes. I'm not going to die in the snow!" But he's clearly panicking.

It's shaky as all hell and they're going down hard. Luckily, Tony's an excellent pilot.

Bucky gets to the copilot’s seat and takes control. It’s faster than trying to explain to Stark. He adjusts their heading. “This time of year, used to be a camp 100km this way. If we can make it--” If they can make it far enough to out-distance the Soldiers, he should be able to get them there alive. IF it’s there. Even leaking fuel, they should be able to get 30 or 40 miles at least.

Tony scoffs, annoyed, and crosses his arms. He can fly a goddamn plane. "You're injured. You shouldn't be doing anything." He gets up and turns to look for a med kit.

He just needed to adjust their course. “Fine. Then you take--” But Stark’s already gone. Bucky sits back, trying to breathe through the pain. Even if they crash less than halfway to the village, there should be protein bars in the emergency kit on the plane. The blanket should keep Tony warm enough. And if he has to carry him there, he can probably do that. _One last push._

"One of us needs to radio Cap."

How? Just a random radio frequency won’t work. And the Soldiers might hear them. “You do it,” he says. Stark should be able to whip up some genius tech thing, right?

Tony digs until he finds the kit and sets it in the pilot’s chair. There's a bullet in his neck. In his chest...where else? "You want me to get them out of you?" It's gonna hurt. And Tony's not going to be gentle about it anyway.

Bucky cringes a little. The idea of someone else digging around inside him... He’s been there, done that. “I’ll do it,” he says, grabbing the kit and digging around for gauze to wrap his neck.

 

Tony's a little disappointed that he doesn't get to take out his frustrations on Barnes, but he does know the team’s emergency frequencies.

He looks at the radio and  thinks of every inside joke he's made over the frequency.  Every time he said something just to watch Steve blush so beautifully. But not only was it over, it was over so Steve could be with Barnes. The man who murdered his parents.

_Whatever. Put it in a box._

"Been There, Done That to Eagle One. Come on, Eagle One. I've got Currently Doing That here, and he's in pretty bad shape. We've escaped the zombie apocalypse and are, apparently, 50 miles from the nearest town. I am not spending the night in the freezing, hellish weather, so you better come get me before he makes me walk." _Or else_.

 

Bucky has no idea what kind of code that is. He focuses on stopping the bleeding, doing a quick stitch job on his neck before he patches it up. Most of the other holes are coagulating already. The bullet that pierced his lung is lodged against his spine; he can feel it, and he knows what that feels like. He’ll just have to live with another bullet inside him. The ones in his back, well. Those will have to keep for now. He uses gauze and tape until he runs out, then sits back. He can feel the engine’s close to empty.

There’s no answer on the Avengers emergency frequency. Likely Steve’s too far away. “Just land,” Bucky closes his eyes, debates about whether to strap in or not. “We’ll have to go on foot the rest of the way.”

  


Tony stares out the windshield. It's starting to get dark. His stomach flips. "I'm not leaving the plane in subzero temperatures. Nope. I'll stay here all night and wait for Steve." Not today. Not after every bad, cold related memory crawled to the front of his brain.

“You could stay with the plane,” Bucky tells him. “But it doesn’t retain heat well, and they’ll find you. We have a better chance if we keep moving.”

"It's better than outside. And blankets. And coats." Like he honestly cares if they find him or not. "I'm not leaving the plane in the dark." He'd be useless out there. "So you go. I'm going to keep trying to contact Steve."

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Bucky says. “But you’ll die here.” Is that what he wants? “From the cold if not the five.”

Tony turns his head away. Crosses his arms, stubborn, stubborn. "Don't care. I'm not leaving." He'll freeze to death out there anyway. And he's not really keen on Barnes' help anymore.

Bucky sighs. What is this? Stubbornness?

"I'm going to die either way."' May as well be on his own terms.

He squints at Stark. “Why?” Bucky’s the one who’s injured.

"I'm going to freeze to death Barnes, duh. Not all of us are super soldiers."

“I told you I could get you there. I didn’t mean dead.”

"And I say we can wait till morning or wait for Steve." He's not leaving shelter in sub zero temperatures. He's not.

“We have to keep moving, or you’ll di--”

Their conversation is cut short as the engine suddenly runs out of fuel. Bucky takes the controls, guiding them down as best he can--at least he can see. He aims for a long stretch of snow and ice, pretending it’s a landing field. He manages to get the landing gear down, but it’s not the right kind of surface. The wheels catch in soft snow, and the plane tips forward, propeller breaking off, nose-skidding to an almost fiery halt. Bucky is thrown from his seat, through the windshield, at least twenty feet into the snow. He lies there, face-down, turning the snow pink.

Okay, who doesn't wear their seatbelt when they know the plane is going to crash? Tony waits for him to get his ass up. Waits a bit longer. Then sighs and grabs one of those solar blankets and wraps it around his parka.

He kicks the seat a couple of times  (a lotta times) so he doesn't kick Barnes for being so stupid, grabs a flashlight and trudges towards Barnes’ lifeless body in the stupid snow.

If he's dead, Tony can stay here.  

Bucky suddenly comes up for air, sucking in a deep breath like a drowning man. _Oh god, it hurts._ But the cold is helping with that. “Stark?” he croaks, turning his head to look for him and then wincing in pain.

"I don't think your walking anywhere now." Tony drags him back inside to the back of the plane. Grabs the protein bars, grabs the extra blankets, and makes a nest. They'll be warm enough if they stay together.

 

This will never work. Bucky obviously has more experience with this than Stark. There’s no insulation. But maybe...maybe just a little nap first. They should have a couple hours lead on the Soldiers unless they found the snow bikes...

“A fire.” It’s not like they won’t be easy to spot regardless. “We need a fire.” He creaks his way out of the blankets and gets the emergency gear, using his fingers and zipper to get another spark and digging a dry hole for the chemically treated logs. It should give them an hour or two of slightly more warmth. He uses the cloth blankets to drape an impromptu tent over the wing, keep the warmth in. Then Bucky removes the floating seats from the plane and puts them down to sit on.

Tony’s wrist is so swollen and useless now.   He's over done it. But what can you do with rogue super soldiers coming to kill you and idiots who nose dive out of glass windows? It's easy to overdo it.

He's shivering. This reminds him of something, though. Something Tony thought a lot about as a kid, before the cold really messed him up. This is kind of romantic.

But the fantasy won’t take hold. All he can see is that car crash. The murder. He can't unsee it. Even when he closes his eyes tight shut, the images don't go away. The sounds. He's trying to control his breathing but he can feel his chest tightening--and he just can't get enough air.

Bucky comes to stand over him. “What?” He’s shirtless and bloody. Bucky bends to wrap the emergency blanket more firmly around Stark, covering his head, too. Then he stands, offering him the knife.

Tony looks at the knife and back up at Barnes. "Do I need that?" His hands are shaking too badly.

Bucky’s brow furrows. “Depends. How good are you at digging out bullets with your fingers?” He sits down in front of Tony, turning his back to him. He’s like a swiss cheese of bullet holes, from waist to shoulder. A rapidly-healing swiss cheese that can’t close wounds with foreign objects trapped inside.  

"You're going to freeze to death." It's getting worse. The feeling in Tony’s chest. He's going to die.

“No I won’t.” At least not in the next hour or two. Calm. Bucky just feels calm.

Then Tony’s going to freeze to death. He takes his shaking hands and lays them on Barnes' shoulders. Warmth. It would be nice, if he could breathe.

Bucky glances back at him. “You’re shaking. Are you still so cold?” Says the guy who has frost forming on his bare chest. “You need me to warm you up? Come here.” He drags Stark’s seat closer to the fire.

"No--" he protests weakly. But the fire. The fire is nice. He leans forward and his hood flops back. Oh, but the fire is a comfort. "Come here, Barnes. You sit in front of it, too." He'd like to feel that comfort as well. All broad shoulders-- and okay maybe it had been a while.

Bucky’s not really sure what Stark means, so he just sits down next to him, turning his back to Tony again. “Good idea. You can sterilize the blade with the flames.”

At least he’s less shaky now. Tony takes the knife off his lap and sticks it in the flames. "I hope you’re ready for this, Barnes." Because he's not.

Bucky takes a deep breath. It’s gotten easier over the years.

"I don't think I know you well enough for all this." It's a joke. And it's not necessarily true. Tony's just read a lot about the guy. And even then, the kidnapping really let them get to know each other.

That confuses Bucky. “You don’t gotta know me to stick a knife in me.” At least, not in his experience.

One by one Tony digs the bullets out of Barnes' back. He's talking to his mom as he does it. He used to do that all the time. Mostly when he was high as a kite and so out of it that she talked back. But he needs her. He needs somebody who's going to hold onto him, keep him from flying away. Because he'd really like to.

Bucky is going to his dead place to tune out the pain--or at least he was planning to--when Stark starts jabbering like a man marked for death. What is he talking about? Has he lost his mind? Bucky’s whole body stiffens when he realizes Stark is talking to his dead mother. But why? Why now? Why to him? Now he can’t go to his dead place, but he wishes he could. This is terrible. The surgery doesn’t hurt at all compared to this.

Finally, Tony cleans the knife off in the snow. Cleans Bucky's back off, too.

Bucky sags forward, really feeling the blood loss now. He grabs two of the protein bars, and manages to eat them without even taking the wrappers off. Then he gets up, pulls his shirt on and cuts himself a poncho from one of the emergency blankets. “Get up,” he tells Tony. “We’re getting out of here.”

"No. No, I want Steve. He has to come." Tony feels delirious. Too cold. Too much today.

“Listen, the radio’s trashed. We can call Steve from the camp. Right now the cold’s gonna find you before he does.”

"I'm not leaving. You can't make me."

“I’m not gonna make you.” Bucky licks his lips, swallows. “But your mom. She told me to take care of you. So we gotta get you someplace warmer, alright? She’ll be pissed at me if you lose your fingers and toes to frostbite.” Without waiting for Stark to answer, Bucky scoops him up in his blanket bundle and starts walking. He holds Tony close, trying to keep him warm.

This is warm. Nice. Tony lays his head on Barnes's chest. His heartbeat is strong and despite the blood and sweat, Bucky smells nice. "You knew my mom?"

Bucky just lets that one go. At least he’s not struggling.

Tony can't remember exactly why that's true. Can't find focus. "My wrist hurts," he whispers, cradling it to his chest.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Honey? Is he channeling Stark’s mom now? “You know what, though? If you could ride my back, we could move faster. I can tie you on, since your wrists hurting. What do you think?”

Tony buries his face in Bucky's chest and whines.

_Whoa._

"Is it going to be cold? I hate the cold." He really likes Bucky's chest though.

“It should be just as warm as this,” Bucky tells him. “Maybe even warmer once you’re all strapped on. Ready?” He shifts Tony around, waiting for him to get settled before he tosses blankets back and starts to knot them around his chest, shoulders, and waist. Once Tony is secure, he grabs his feet and tucks them into his pockets. “Put your hands inside my shirt,” he instructs. “It’ll help them keep warm.”

He's comfortable with his head on Bucky's shoulder.  "Bucky." He breathes. “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky."

He’s acting so crazy. Did he miss his meds or something? Bucky did hit him in the head more than once... With Tony settled, he takes off at a dead sprint. On his own on solid ground, he can run a 90 second mile. But he’s injured, low on blood, low on energy, carrying Tony across the frozen tundra. If he can make a three minute mile, he’ll be impressed. But they don’t have much time. Tony’s running out.

Barnes runs fast. He wants to sleep, but he shouldn't. Something tells him not to. His hands in Bucky's shirt feel good. The skin is smooth. His muscles are hard. "You feel good."

“Uh...thanks?” Is Stark groping his chest? He grips those little feet, keeping the toes in his pockets, trying to rub them a little as he runs. “Hey, you know what?” Is Stark falling asleep back there? “This is really boring. Wanna do karaoke?”

Sing? Tony's not that good at singing. But maybe, if it'll make Bucky happy. "Sure, I take requests."

Bucky wracks his brain for any song that he knows that Tony might know. There’s a bit of a culture gap. What’s a singer that was alive when both he and Tony were young? “Do you know uhhh...Sinatra?”

Tony croons, "I've got you under my skin…”

Suddenly Bucky’s honestly not sure if he’s being hit on here.

“I've got you deep in the heart of me

So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me

I've got you under my skin." Then Tony stops. Makes a disgusted face. "My dad used to like Sinatra."

Ummmm...he doesn’t sound happy. “Pick something else,” Bucky tells him. “Who did your mom like?”

"We can't go on together

With suspicious minds

And we can't build our dreams

On suspicious minds

So, if an old friend I know

Stops by to say hello

Would I still see suspicion in your eyes?"

But now Tony feels like crying. "He doesn't love me anymore." He hides his face in Bucky's hair.

“What?” Bucky’s heart is pumping so fast. He’s not cold anymore, but his limbs are starting to feel sluggish. He has to work not to trip. “You’re not gonna listen to anything that Zemo guy said, are you? He’s a spy, and spies lie. Don’t let him get in your head.” It is really time to change the subject. Bucky is the last person to be counseling anyone on relationships.

So he starts singing. Something manic. Something easy. “Do, a deer, a female deer, re, a drop of golden sun…” God it’s hard to sing and sprint at the same time.

This one’s fun. Tony knows this one. Aunt Peg used to sing it with him. "Mi, a name I call myself..."

Tony sings that one three or four times before he gets sick of it. He hugs Bucky around the neck. Gentle, gentle, gentle, didn't he get shot?

"You know what, I think this is a sign. A sign that says no more relationships for Tony Stark. Nope. First Pepper--wow, let me tell you about Pepper. She was not what little girls are made of.

And then he belts out, "Sometimes I feel I've got to

Run away I've got to

Get away from the pain that you drive into the heart of me

The love we share

Seems to go nowhere

And I've lost my light

For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night…”

Wow, that’s annoying. But at least Tony’s awake. Why is he moving his arms? “Keep your hands inside my shirt,” Bucky reminds him. He has no idea how long it’s been. Five miles? Ten?

Wait. Did he hear something? It’s hard to see into the distance, the wind keeps whipping snow up into his face. No, there it is again. The sound of hooves on ice, and the scratch of runners.


	4. There's Bound to Be Talk Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Tony make it to safety, but for how long? And who will save them from each other?

Bucky calls out a Tundra Nenets greeting. 

It turns out the sledge was sent out to look for them after the camp saw the plane crash. Bucky bundles Tony into the sledge and starts to walk behind, but the driver--a woman named Khadne--insists he get on, too. Knowing when he’s beaten, Bucky gives in and climbs on. He slides under Tony’s blankets, wrapping them around both of them, and for a few miles, he relaxes a little.

"You’re  _ so _ cold." Tony murmurs against Bucky's shoulders. "Can I sleep now?" It might be okay. He’s warm. Bucky is comfortable.

Bucky thinks. How close are they? The reindeer will probably move slower than he was running, but at least they can share warmth better now. “Just one more thing first.” He strips down quickly under the blankets and furs, then takes off Tony’s winter gear, stripping him all the way down to his last layer of thermals. Then Bucky wraps arms and legs around him, pulling the emergency blankets close, then the normal blankets, then the furs. He makes a little nest, so that their heads are covered, too, and there’s just one small hole in the pile of furs for air to come in and out. “Still feeling sleepy?” he asks Tony.

Tony squirms. Doesn't want to go to sleep with Bucky against him. He shakes his head against Bucky's bare chest. Palms it. Bucky has nice abs. He's actually pretty great looking. But he's so drowsy. Tony’s eyes won't stay open.

Actually, Bucky thinks, this is a weird position. He lets go of Tony and tries again. “Put your hands and feet on me.” Okay, his hands are already there, anyway. Bucky manipulates Tony into a fetal position so that his feet can rest against him, too. Then he wraps his arms around Tony again. “Better?”

So warm. "Why do you feel sooo goood?" He likes Bucky. It's official.  "Smell good, too. You should kiss me."  _ So tired.  _ And warm now. Tony sleeps.

Kiss him? Bucky’s eyes are wide. Tony must be really delirious. Wasn’t he just talking about worrying that Steve didn’t love him anymore? He must have mistaken Bucky for Steve. That’s all it is.

They make it to the winter camp in one piece. He helps their hero bundle Tony into her family’s chum. Khadne is welcoming and asks few questions, as has been the case in Bucky’s dealings with this clan in the past. She expects him to go tell his story to the elders, which he does as soon as he sees Tony settled and puts his clothes back on--though Bucky seems to have given the woman’s grandmother quite a laugh with his nudity.

The elders listen quietly to his story. They know Winter Soldier and the chaos his presence brings. After convening while Bucky waits outside, they finally decide that he and Tony can stay a few days, or until the other Soldiers come, whichever happens first. Then the clan will move camp, and Bucky and Tony will be on their own again. In exchange, Bucky is charged with protecting the camp and its reindeer against the Soldiers while he stays, and he has to agree to being exorcised by the shaman. Again. Also, the crashed plane and all its parts now belong to the clan. Bucky’s fine with that; they’d never be able to get gas enough for it out here, even if Tony could get it working again.

 

Tony sleeps and sleeps and sleeps. He doesn't remember how he got here. He doesn't remember much at all after he dragged Barnes back to the plane. 

His wrist is wrapped and a bowl is shoved into his hands by a grandmotherly type. He tries to speak to her but she doesn't seem to understand him. The soup’s good though.

She puts his arm in a sling, and he tries to stand, tries to get out of bed. It doesn't work very well; he keeps falling backwards. "Fuck!" So frustrating. Tony lays spread eagle, feet dangling off the bed, his head spinning.

 

Bucky checks on Tony one more time before submitting himself for purification. The shaman is eager to exorcise his evil spirits as soon as possible, and Bucky doesn’t blame them. He ducks back into the chum, where Khadne’s grandmother offers him a bowl of stew. He smiles, declining it, knowing he won’t be able to keep anything down in the coming ceremony.

He’s surprised to find Tony naked, spread eagle on the bed, his furs thrown off. “Uhhhm.” Khadne’s grandmother has probably never seen this much American peen. Bucky turns away discreetly. “How do you feel?”

_ Bucky.  _ That's Barnes. He lifts his head up. "Dizzy. Help me sit up, Barnes. Help me get out of bed.”

“Honey,” Why is he still calling him honey? “No offense, but I think you probably better stay in bed a while longer. I can help you sit up, though.” He turns around. “And put pants on, I mean. If you want.” He gently lifts Tony to a sitting position and props him up with blankets and furs. “Did you eat the stew grandma gave you?”

Stay in bed?! Pants?!?! Tony wrinkles his nose. "I ate all my soup, yes, thank you mother hen. I don't need to be babied."

Seriously? “Oh, okay. Well fuck you then.” Bucky lets go of him and steps back. He can deal with shit himself. “I gotta go for a little bit, do this ceremony thing. Just get some rest. We can plan what comes next when I get back.”

Tony blinks up at him. "You're leaving me alone?" But he's going to be so bored!

Bucky glances at Khadne’s family, who are literally feet away. “You’re not alone, Tony.”

"What am I suppose to do, wait for your assassin friends to come find me?"

What is with this guy? “So  **now** you’re worried about that?” Bucky sighs. “Look, the whole village is on lookout for those guys. I’m only gonna be a few tents away. If there’s any sign of ‘em, trust me, they’ll interrupt the ceremony to get me.”

Tony's jaw drops.  He's not afraid, just bored. The audacity!  "Fine, whatever. Go. I'll be here. With no one to talk to. Until you get back." Rest. Yeah. That's so easy to do.

“That’s kinda rude, Tony,” Bucky tells him. “They speak Russian, you know.” He glances at the family.

Tony blushes, ashamed, he’d only tried with Grandma and pouts harder.

“Well, maybe not grandma.” She smiles at him, all gums, and raises a reindeer hoof cup of something fermented. “Besides, since when do you wanna spend time with me?” He heads toward the flap.

"I don't!" Does he? No. Why would he? "I'm just-having some memory lapses  and I was hoping you could clear some of that up for me." That’s what it is. He has no reason to want Barnes here.

Bucky’s expression turns sympathetic. “My memory is shit. But I’ll help you if I can. When I get back.”

He watches Barnes go while he's stuck in bed like a caged animal. He makes small talk with the family. Definitely charms grandma, who tries to share with him whatever it is in her cup. Tony politely declines. He can be charming, damn it!

Turns out Khadne’s children think Tony’s pretty entertaining too. They join him on the bed and show off their prized possessions.

In the shaman’s yurt, Bucky strips down and lies on the ground, tries to relax. Honestly, the ceremony doesn’t bother him too much. The incense is kind of relaxing. Being bathed in reindeer urine, less so. After a few hours, the shaman deems Bucky’s evil spirits as banished as they’re going to get. He sits by their fire and drinks fermented reindeer milk with the shaman and apprentices, who make him feel welcome by cracking jokes about his nudity. Bucky shakes his head. He’ll take it. Closer to normal than anything he’s had since Bucharest.

 

Khadne’s daughter talks and talks and talks. Turns out she's the eldest. No wonder the two boys are so quiet. She talks about her dolly for twenty minutes before actually showing it to him. She's pretty cute despite all the talking. Reminds Tony of somebody. 

The taller boy shows him his yo-yo. He does a ton of tricks with it, at all of which Tony is shocked and amazed. The kid’s like, six. He’s pretty amazed that the boy has the attention span to learn all of these tricks.

The youngest boy has a broken geode. Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed. "Can you show me where you found this?  It's pretty cool." The little boy’s eyes look like dinner plates and the other two talk over him and tell Tony they know where it is and not to follow after the baby.

 

Finally, finally, Bucky gets back to Khadne’s chum. Everyone is in bed, but the three kids are all peeking out over the fur blankets, staring at Tony like he’s the most fascinating person on the planet. Which maybe is a good thing, because from the rocking and rolling mom and dad’s blankets are doing, it’s date night.

He walks over to Tony’s bed. “Uhh. Hey.” He runs fingers through his hopefully no longer smelling like reindeer urine hair. “I’m evil spirit-free.” And tired. Has he mentioned tired?

He gives Barnes a little salute in greeting. "We had a party. There's food for you." Tony gestures to the meal they’d laid out for him. Suddenly Tony wonders, where is Barnes going to sleep? Why does it matter? Why is his heart beating like that? "How was it?"

Bucky goes quietly to the spread and gorges, filling a bowl and coming back to the bed as he’s still chewing what he stuffed in his mouth while serving himself. He swallows before answering. “Fine. I’m used to it.” They’ve been exorcising him for at least a couple of decades now. “How you feeling?”

Tony blinks. He's used to being exorcised? That's...fascinating. Why is Barnes standing over him like that? "Sit down; you’re making me nervous."

“Then move over.” Bucky slides in under the fur blankets, still eating.

"I'm fine, Barnes." He tries not to roll his eyes. "Really. I've had enough fuss made over me."

“Good. Then I’m gonna sleep.” Right after he eats. He can’t even taste anything he’s eating so fast right now.

Oh god. Why does this seem like a terrible idea? Tony scooches as far as he possibly can without falling out of bed.

Bucky ignores Tony trying to get away from him. He has a right to hate him.

"You were suppose to tell me what happened. I remember pulling you back to the plane, but that's it."

Bucky thinks. “You...got cold, so I carried you here. Khadne picked us up in her sledge and took us the rest of the way. That’s all.” Munch munch munch.

"Where do you think Steve is?" He's wondered that quite a bit. Even though Tony isn't sure he actually wants to see him.

Bucky sighs. He doesn’t really want to think of Steve. Steve, who is always looking for him. Trying to redeem him. “I figure, once he gets to the base and finds it destroyed...he’ll either investigate or come looking for us. But it’ll be okay. He’s not alone.” Even Steve’s not that stupid.

"I just don't want him to run into those Zombies. Alone or not." He's not so sure Steve won't be.

“They should be long gone by the time Steve gets there.” And it would be to their advantage not to engage Steve. Talk about blowing your cover!

"Thanks. For doing that. For, um, for putting up with me." Tony figures it probably wasn't easy.

Bucky looks down at his food. “I owe you.”

And that's when the conversation screeches to a halt. He hears the tires in his head and everything. "Goodnight Barnes." Tony rolls over and away from him.

Bucky knows what that chill in his voice is. He’s honestly surprised it wasn’t there the whole time. “Get some rest, Tony.” He finishes eating and falls into an exhausted sleep, half sitting up, half in and half out of the blankets.

But Tony doesn't sleep. He listens to Barnes breathe until he's sure he's out and then--then he can take care of himself. It’s just a bodily function. It doesn’t mean anything.

 

_ It’s hot. Hot in here.  _ Bucky tosses and turns, pulling his shirt off in his sleep. He never wears jeans to bed. Eventually, he shoves those off, too.  _ Better. That’s better.  _ He spreads out on the bed, face-down. 

He's naked and now Bucky is naked. Tony whines.

Bucky’s brow furrows. Who made that noise? Is something wrong? Still asleep, he reaches out until his hand makes contact with something. Someone. He pets it.  _ There, there _ .

Bucky pets his hair and Tony sighs. Feels good.  _ Touch me more. _ Too bad telekinesis isn't actually real.

Bucky’s hand drifts down from petting his hair to scratching the back of his neck.  _ Good dog. _

This is...natural. Surely. Barnes is attractive, naked, and lying next to him. What is he supposed to be doing? Tony's body says he's supposed to be sucking his dick, but his body needs to hurry up and come.

Bucky takes a deep breath. That smell. What is that smell? He slides under the blankets, sniffing for it. It’s...something. His face makes contact with warm skin, drinking in the pheromones.

Tony hisses. Bucky's  face on his back. Is he still asleep? Tony can only assume he is. Can't see either way.

The skin smells good. Bucky licks it, then bites gently. Tasty. He moves up closer to it, still fast asleep.

He's so close now. Tony grinds his ass back against Bucky's crotch. Can't help himself. He whines again. Louder this time.

Bucky slides an arm around the whining thing. Pets Tony’s chest.  _ There, there. _ Keeps petting. Is it? A dick? Was he jerking off? Must be. He does feel a little hard. Bucky grips Tony’s dick like it’s his own, leisurely jerking off. That’s weird. He can’t feel it. What a strange dream.

Tony cries out, hand reaching up and pulling Bucky's hair.

Bucky’s eyes open suddenly. What is…? Is this really happening? Tony _ wants  _ this?

He grinds harder. Close. So close now. He's going to come in Bucky's hand and he can't even be embarrassed about it.

Bucky focuses on Tony, trying to give him a good handjob. He hides his face in Tony’s back, embarrassed and awkward, ignoring the bare butt pushing against his morning wood.

Oh god. Oh god, so good. Is Bucky still asleep? He assumes so. He turns his head and kisses Bucky's neck.

Bucky’s eyes are squinched shut. If Tony started this while he was asleep...maybe he should still be asleep? He pretends to be. But it’s hard when Tony’s lips press against his skin, which erupts in goosebumps.

Tony’s thighs are trembling. He whimpers, coming into Bucky's hand.

Oh wow. This is...sexual. Bucky hasn’t...done this. In a long time. Not for free. Not like this. He has to remind himself that he’s asleep. That the view is under the blankets anyway, even if he could look.

Tony sighs. That's it. That's out of his system. He never has to think about Barnes naked ever again. Should he worry about cleaning Bucky up? Probably. Tony takes his hand and licks it, gently cleaning up all the sticky semen.

Bucky holds his breath so as not to make a sound. What is Tony... ? Is he...eating his own come? Licking him... _ oh god.  _ He manages to stay silent, but his cock betrays him, bucking against Tony’s bare asscheeks.

Tony can feel him hold his breath. So he probably hasn't been asleep for a while. Is that embarrassing? Why didn't he say anything? This is Tony's fault. He should fix it. Once Barnes is clean, Tony snakes his way under the blankets, rubbing his face over Bucky's cock.

_ Oh god, what is he doing?! _  Bucky thought he was in the clear, but apparently not.

He licks the tip. Yes. He wants this.

How the hell is Bucky supposed to stay quiet, to pretend to be asleep for this? Tony doesn’t have to do this. Tony shouldn’t do this, but how is he going to tell him that and pretend to be asleep at the same time? Bucky reaches down and rubs his hands over Tony’s shoulders. That should let him know he’s awake, right? It’s just one embarrassing conversation. He can handle it. Tony will probably stop now that he knows Bucky is awake...right?

Oh, those hands feel good. His eyes close and slowly Tony swallows him down, suckling, needy. His hands reach around, grabbing Bucky's behind and pulling him closer.

Bucky whimpers, gripping Tony’s shoulders more roughly. His brain is turning off; this is too much. Bucky’s hands slide over Tony’s shoulders, petting up the back of his neck, sliding haphazardly into his hair. He strokes Tony’s cheeks, the curve of his neck, panting. He moans, softly. This is insane. Feels too good. He’s not going to last much longer. Why is Tony doing this? Is he asleep? Does he even know what he’s doing? Bucky feels guilty, but he can’t stop.

Tony hums, pleased with the fingers  in his hair. The moan. What would happen if Tony stuck his fingers between Bucky's cheeks? He wants to find out.

This is such a strange experience for Bucky. In the past...it hasn’t been with someone he cared for--had cared for the way he’d had to keep Tony alive the past 24 hours. Maybe there are memories of something like this, but not for the past 70 years, not… Even in Bucharest, he had to keep his distance from people. There were neighbors, people at the market who he came to know a little, but he kept them at a distance for his anonymity and their safety. He hasn’t experienced anything like this since he can remember, and it’s...intense. But the physical has its own timeline, and no matter what strange feelings and memories Bucky has, it’s done.

He grips Tony’s shoulders, one last warning before he comes, teeth clenched to keep things quiet. He tries to withdraw so as not to choke Tony, or give him a gooey surprise.

Tony latches on to Bucky's butt, if he's going to come, he's going to come in Tony's mouth, goddamn it.

It's over, and Bucky feels terribly, horribly guilty. He sags forward, wanting to hold Tony, to apologize.

He cleans Bucky up a second time and...now what? Does he turn around and go to sleep? Do they....talk about it???? 

He really, really doesn't want to.    
  
Bucky's leaning against him and he has to squirm up to stick his head back out. The silence is thick enough to stick  a knife in. He presses his lips together, not sure what words are threatening to come out but afraid of them. 

Bucky loosely puts his arms around Tony's shoulders, leaning against him. To apologize now, he can't. It will feel like apologizing for something else, so he doesn't. Just stays quiet.

This he can do. He doesn't have to talk about it. He doesn't have to think about it. It's done. And Bucky...Bucky feels pretty good. Maybe he can sleep. 

Bucky holds Tony gently, waiting for him to fall asleep. It's going to be difficult for him to sleep after that. His mind is still reeling.

Tony wakes up to the sound of screaming children. "Ugh." And he's laying on Bucky's chest.  Curled up on him like a kitten. It takes him a moment to remember what he did last night. 

_ Fuck. _ Is Bucky awake? How does he explain himself? How did he even end up on Bucky's chest? He peers up through his eyelashes, checking to see if he can roll away without being caught.

Bucky is wide awake. He hardly slept. For hours he's been lying here with Tony curled like a kitten on top of him, trying to figure out how to get up without waking him. 

Now Tony is looking at him. Is he supposed to say something? "Hey." Genius. What does that even mean?

Of course he can’t get out of this free and clear. Tony rolls away. "Um. Hi." He tries to sit up and succeeds. Mostly. Maybe he'll be allowed out of bed today. Away, far away, from Barnes.

It’s a little sad to lose that weight on top of him. But it was never really Bucky’s to have. Okay, they’re both still naked. Right.  _ Stop staring, Bucky.  _ He slides out of bed, pulling his jeans on. “I’ll help them bring the plane back today. At least I’ll be back with the radio, so you can fix it if you can. If you can help out here today, I know they’ll appreciate it.” He drags his shirt on, and looks around for his boots.

_ Goodbye, beautiful body. I hardly knew ye.  _ Now would be a good time to stop staring. "Where--I don't have any clothes."

Right. That’s why he’s naked. Bucky tries to think. “I took ‘em off in the sledge…” He asks grandma where Tony’s clothes are. She smiles and points to the children, who are wearing them, each one a different item. Bucky snorts. “Can we have his pants back, at least?” The little girl reluctantly steps out of them, her own winter wear underneath. Bucky lays them down on the bed without looking at Tony.

“Well, this is a start. I think you’re on your own for the rest.” He has a weird urge to kiss Tony goodbye. No clue where it’s coming from. “Anyway, see you later.”

"Thanks." He says, annoyed. He's not sure if he's more upset that Barnes isn't helping him or if he's leaving. Tony watches him go, a bit disappointed, and waves awkwardly.

Bucky thinks Tony’s done with him until that little wave. He pauses on his way out of the chum, waves back. Waves? What the hell is wrong with him? It’s like he’d do anything for the guy. But Bucky owes him. A lot.


	5. You Don't Have to Do This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bucky have to figure out where they go from Siberia. Will they go together? Right now, all they agree on for sure is that sex should happen one more time. And that Steve will not be happy about it.

At least Tony has his pants. He pulls them on and then turns to the other two children, expecting them to cough up his clothes.  They don't, of course, and it inevitably leads to a game of chase. 

After which he's scolded for breaking a vase and banished to potato peeling duty. Lame.

After being forced to help with lunch, Tony’s determined to fix the vase. Gathering the pieces, finding gloves, and some kind of homemade glue that smells of...something he'd rather not think about, Tony goes to work.

The way he sees it, he's not allowed to do anything physical until he's told otherwise, and he's bored. Bored and stuck on brat duty. This way, they're entertained, he's entertained, and nobody gets in trouble for making a mess--least of all him.

 

*

 

When Bucky and the drivers make it back to the site of the plane crash, he takes a look around for tracks, first. The snow shows some activity, two people--maybe three, but it’s hard to tell. There’s snow and wind between the night they crashed and the arrival of the next tracks. Either way, no one’s here anymore. The plane is as they left it, so Bucky’s guess is that whoever came went on to look for them. Not the other winter soldiers, because they would have found the camp by now. It’s confusing, though. Steve isn’t looking on foot, is he? That would just be stupid. 

Not sure what to make of it, Bucky spends the day helping the clan get the plane onto skis and then hooking everything up to a reindeer team. It’s not easy going, and it’s not fast, either. They make it back to camp just after dark. Bucky is sweaty and tired from pushing the plane as needed, and once again, he’s starving. He heads into Khadne’s chum to see if Tony’s still there. Bucky’s not 100% sure he will be. Not that there’s really anywhere to go out here, but that probably wouldn’t stop Tony.

Bucky’s relieved to find him still there. He comes to sit by the stove and warm up. “Did you kids have fun today?” He’s looking at the children, but he’s curious what Tony’s been up to, too.

Miss talks-a-lot tells him the story of Tony and the broken vase, sparing  no detail and adding some extra. He doesn't usually get embarrassed but if Tony did, it would be over making a fool of himself for a bunch of little kids.

“Well that’s pretty great,” Bucky tells her. “I’m glad you guys had a good time.”  _ Tony’s good with kids? Huh. _ “How’s your wrist?” That one’s for Tony. But Bucky’s afraid to look at him when he asks.

"It's fine." It hurts when Tony has to use it, so he tries not to use it. "How'd your plane sled go?" This feels awfully domestic.

Bucky shrugs. “I had to push it a lot.” Reindeer can only do so much with a damaged airplane. “But we got here.” Khadne shoves a plate of food into his hands, and Bucky starts eating.

He's probably sore, Tony thinks. Probably hurting. "Take your shirt off."

"Huh?" Bucky's cheeks feel hot. Did Tony like what he saw last night? But they're not alone... he glances at the kids, self-conscious. “Um, n-no thanks.” Bucky clears his throat, trying to change the subject. “Anyway, seemed like someone found the plane, but then left. I don’t think it was the Soldiers.”

Tony’s heart flip flops and he swallows. Not that he wants to see Cap. At all. "Not the soldiers, huh? Did you grab the radio for me?" Nope. Not even a little bit, after what he'd done with Bucky. Not that Steve would ever guess.

Bucky shrugs. "It's in the plane."

He's annoyed that Bucky hadn't thought to grab it. Is he the only one who cares about Steve here? "If you get me that radio, I'll rub your shoulders. Shoulder. One. Because my other hand’s pretty useless."

Bucky's left shoulder is the one that hurts. All the time. But he doesn't correct Tony. "You don't have to do that." He nods his head toward outside. "Show me what bits you need. It's pretty banged up."

Tony bites his lip. But he  _ wants _ to. Wants to touch Barnes again. Places he didn't last night.

Why is...he doing that with his mouth? Bucky tries not to look.

"Look, I'm offering you a free massage here. I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine. All that jazz." He knows Bucky wants it. He didn't miss that blush.

This discussion is over. Bucky nods toward the door again, puts his bowl down. “Come on. Show me how to take the radio out without messing it up worse.”

"Why are you so stubborn? Here, look, give me your hand." Tony holds his hand palm-out.

Bucky frowns. What is he doing? Didn’t he want the radio? Bucky gives Tony his metal hand. Because.

Tony gives him a look. "Really? The other hand, Barnes."

Bucky almost smirks. Almost. "What's wrong with it? You don't like guys with metal hands?"

"Honey, we both know that isn't true."  If last night was anything to go by. He grabs the flesh one, massaging the meaty part of his palm and wrist.

Bucky ducks his head.  _ Holy shit.  _ Embarrassing. Then Tony takes his right hand and starts...touching him. “You don’t gotta do that, Tony,” Bucky tells him. “I’m fine.”

Grandma is watching them like she needs some popcorn.

"So you’re saying you don't like it?" Because he hasn't pulled away.  "If you do, then maybe it can wait until tomorrow."

“I didn’t. Say...that.” What the hell is Tony doing? “Huh? What can wait?” Is he saying wait on the radio? Stay here together? Inside? (in bed?) Is Bucky dreaming?

"The radio. This isn't real anyway, is it?”

Bucky’s looking at him, more and more worried. Is Tony okay?

“Here, it doesn't matter if Steve broke up with me or--"  _ you murdered my mother. _ "Or that I'm here with you instead.”

“With me?” Like WITH him???? No one’s WITH Bucky, that’s just. Crazy.

“Let's just live in Wonderland a little longer." Tony pushes Bucky toward the bed. "Sit down, Barnes."

Bucky whimpers, falling back to sit on the bed. “Tony…” There’s something he’s been trying not to think about. Because this has been...way more than he deserves. Even this brief time of peace they’ve had...together...sort of. “I need to get moving. Soon.” It’s a miracle no one’s tracked them here yet. Steve, Interpol, even the frozen tundra won’t stop them for long.

Tony climbs on the bed behind him. "Good." Then he can move on with his own life. With Steve or without him. But at least this thing with Barnes is out of his system.

_ Good? _ Talk about mixed signals.  “No. I mean...this can’t--you shouldn’t...you probably wanna go home. Right?”

"Not at the moment, no." No, Tony wants...something else.

“No?” Something’s wrong. What happened to him? Did he lose it?

"Tell me, what's as good as you that I can have at home?"

Bucky feels like he’s been smacked in the head with a frying pan. “Ummm…”  _ Have _ him!? Or is Tony just trying to become his new handler? That makes more sense…

"Which side do you want me to do?" Tony asks him.

At first, Bucky thinks he’s asking front or back, and he starts to get flustered again. Then he realizes...arms. If Stark is really as good with robotics as they say...he hasn’t been maintenanced in years...but. This probably isn’t the time to have someone new messing around with his arm. Not when he’s getting ready to have to run again. He flexes his metal hand. “Just don’t--don’t worry about it.” He starts to get up. “I probably should go talk to someone about borrowing a sledge. The sooner I’m gone, the safer you’ll all be.”

Tony grabs him and pushes him back on the bed. If Tony has to sit on him to keep him still, so be it. "Sit down, Barnes." That's enough arguing. Tony rubs his left shoulder. He's only got the one hand but, if it'll help Bucky relax…

“Tony...” Bucky blinks at him. He’s about to say ‘you’re in my lap,’ but something else happens. “Do you want to come with me?” Why the hell did he ask that?

That's an awful lot of commitment. And, no. No, Tony wants to stay with Steve. Or he did. Maybe not so much anymore, the liar. "Where are you going? Do we have to leave right now? It's cold. Can't we leave in the morning?"

Is that...a yes? Bucky feels strange...not bad. He’s never asked anyone to come with him before. No one’s ever wanted him like this...he  _ thinks _ . It feels new. Who would say yes knowing what Tony knows? “Yeah. We can leave in the morning.” Bucky raises his right hand to touch Tony’s face, blown away.

Tony sighs. All this so Bucky wouldn't bolt out the door. So Bucky would fuck him. "Touch me more." He whimpers. This feels...so affectionate.

Bucky lets his hand slip down to Tony’s neck, toying with his shirt collar, thinking of slipping inside. He glances back at the family, who are watching them like a tv show. Who needs soap operas when you have two crazy Americans staying with you? “We’re not alone,” he reminds Tony.

"Theeeen touch me later." And maybe that's all Tony will need. He doesn't have to stay with Bucky, run away with him. That's so...disgustingly romantic and he doesn't have any romantic feelings towards Barnes. He's attractive, sure. And brave. And kind... but he--

No.  _ Steve _ did the unforgivable. Not Bucky.

Bucky swallows. “If...that’s what you want.” But what should they do now? And how much longer is Tony going to sit in his lap? Bucky eyes the food he left behind. “Did you eat already?”

Tony did eat. This morning. "Yes." What's he--?  _ Oh. _ Tony reaches for the plate, wrapping his legs around Bucky's waist to hold on.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. He grips Tony’s hips to steady him. What in the hell? Seriously? Well, at least he’s grabbing Bucky’s plate. Why’s Tony so needy? Why does he want to touch Bucky so much? Did he forget who Bucky is?

Tony puts the plate by Bucky on the bed and crawls off his lap. Stretching, he leans closer to the fire.

Okay, that’s...well. Bucky has no idea what Tony is doing. But he’s hungry, so he eats. And tries not to stare. But he’s worried. Is Tony okay? Why is he acting like this all of a sudden? While he eats, Bucky talks with Khadne and her husband about the likeliest person to loan him a sledge and some reindeer. He’s trying to gauge how far they’d be able to get, and how he’d return everything.

Tony listens, sitting at Bucky’s feet. He tugs at Bucky's shirt. "If I'm going with you, maybe we can trade something instead." And then if they can sell the sledge they'll have a little money.

If...if? So he hasn't made up his mind yet. Bucky looks at him seriously. "Are you going with me?"

"Sure." For now. But really he thinks its stupid to keep running forever.  But for now, he doesn't want to do anything else. Going home is not an option. He's fucked all that up.

That sounds pretty flippant for such a serious question, Bucky thinks.

"I can provide a service..." He can fix anything, of course. It's a service.

Bucky nods. "Fix the plane, maybe." Everything else here they're pretty adept at fixing themselves. Although when Tony talks about providing a service, his mind wanders elsewhere...

"I can do that." Do they still want to contact Steve? Yes. No. He really doesn't know.

Bucky nods, just goes on eating. He's not contacting Steve. Not bringing it up again if he can help it. Steve will want to save him. He can't be saved. Better just to avoid the whole conversation.

Khadne shoves a plate into Tony’s hands and tells him to eat. He glances sidelong at Bucky, wondering if he noticed the lie (probably not). Tony sits with the children, playing with them and trying to get them to eat. He leans against Bucky's leg, absorbing his warmth. Absorbing the information he's given about the plane and the reindeer. "Let's go to Cairo. Somewhere warm." He's not that familiar with it, so it should be fun.

Bucky thinks about it. "We could pass. How's your Arabic?" But it will take a lot to get them to Africa from here.

_ "I do fine. What about you, Barnes?" _  He raises an eyebrow. Language is something he's always been able to pick up. A game he'd play as a child.

_ “Good enough.” _

 

Once Bucky's eaten his fill and the kids are starting to drowse against Tony, the clan storyteller comes to get his usual scoop from Bucky to add to his repertoire. Then he tells them a short one, acting it out in grand style. By the end, the kids are drifting off. Bucky thanks the storyteller and helps tuck the kids in. Mom and dad enjoy one last drink and smoke, and then it's time for bed. Bucky hesitates at the mattress he shared with Tony the night before. Is this really what Tony wants?

Tony lies back, pushing air out of his cheeks. He can do this. He can do this for a little while. They can be...travel buddies. Who maybe sometimes have sex.

_ Don’t stare, Bucky. _

Tony squirms under the blanket, kicking off his pants and pulling the layers of clothes over his head. Naked. But. They don't always have to share a bed.    

Bucky is just about to ask if this is really what Tony wants when he remembers: Tony asked him to touch him more. Biting his lip, Bucky takes off his shoes and socks and slides under the fur blankets. If Tony changed his mind, he can stay on his side of the mattress...right?

Tony stays stiff and quiet, waiting for the family to go to sleep. He wants...what? He wants to feel that heat when he touches Bucky.

Bucky sees that Tony is stiff. Awkward. Bucky probably should have asked if Tony wanted to sleep alone. Cues are hard.

But, Tony thinks, if Bucky falls asleep, then he can deal with that, too. He turns to face him.

Bucky’s been pretending not to watch Tony up until now. If Tony’s going to look at him, he can look at Tony...right?  

Tony’s hand slides across the mattress as he watches Bucky in the fire light.

Bucky watches that hand like a cat with a mouse. He likes the way the fire casts playful shadows on Tony’s skin. But he slowly draws the blankets up over them, giving more privacy.  

"What do you want, Barnes?"

What does he want? Is this a trick question? “Touch you,” he answers softly. “You asked.” The sex was strange last night. Intimate, yet not intimate. He thinks he preferred it intimate.

"I did." Tony likes the blanket cocoon. It feels private. It feels safe. Which makes him confused. But he shoves it down. Sex now, feelings later. Does he even have feelings for Barnes? _ Um, no. _

Bucky nods. Moves closer to Tony. “Should I...shirt off?” Tony’s already naked, after all.

Tony tugs at his jeans. "These, too." 

That makes Bucky feel like he’s burning up. He whips off his shirt, trying not to throw off Tony’s hand in the process. Then he’s wriggling out of his jeans, semi-hard dick waggling. Winter Soldier wears no drawers. 

While Bucky hurries to obey, Tony takes a shaky breath, trying to dispel thoughts of  _ feelings  _ from his mind. Once Barnes’ shirt is off, he slides his hand over Bucky's bicep, down across his chest.

Bucky looks down at Tony’s hand, surprised. He’s not sure why. No one touches him like this. No one touches him at all.

"Mmm," This is new for Tony. New and exciting.  "Touch me more."

That sound in Tony’s throat makes Bucky’s heartbeat quicken. He jerks him close, bending his head to kiss him, to gingerly touch his face again. He’d liked that before. Bucky can’t quite remember how to kiss. But he’s trying, experimenting with lip pressure on Tony’s mouth, and how much or little to part his lips.

Tony gasps, surprised. That was...that was sudden. His hands are itching for Bucky's skin, his body, and he explores eagerly. He whimpers, tries not to make too much noise, and lets Bucky kiss him. Despite Cap's apparent obsession, it feels like he hasn't kissed anyone in 70 years. That's alright, Tony's a good teacher.

Really Bucky just wants to touch Tony’s face. And pet his cheeks. And pull his hair--gently. Maybe slide his palms over his neck and shoulders some more. It’s a strange indulgence, being able to just touch someone. The kiss is...something he’s felt like he needed to do. But he’s still not sure he’s doing it right. Tony’s hands on him are making him tremble, like he’s been holding something back.

Now it's really hard for Tony to stay quiet. It feels...it feels as if it's been forever since Barnes has been touched this way. But that's not true, is it?

He can tell Tony’s holding back. And he should do what he wants. But Bucky...wants that part of him he’s holding back. Wants to see it. Hear it. “Tony,” he breathes, kissing his brow, his jaw, and returning to his lips.

_ No no no no. Shut off, brain. Now is not the time. _ He whimpers, throwing himself at Bucky, lacing fingers in his hair, kissing him hard, eyes tight shut. No crying. Steve doesn't deserve to be cried over.

Bucky catches him, holds him, puts his arms around Tony. He needs something--something different from what happened last night. Bucky holds him close, cradling Tony against his body.

Tony wraps one leg around Bucky's waist.

_ Well that’s...different. _ He gently bites Tony’s lower lip.

Tony needs to be closer.  Something inside him is screaming that Bucky is safe. And it doesn't make sense. Logically, he doesn't understand. So gentle. He needs this. To be held.  Tony takes a deep breath, tries again. Trembling, he kisses Bucky's neck all the way up to his lips, holding him tight, tight.

Bucky cups Tony’s face with both hands, kissing him gently over and over.

_ Can't--no! No hyperventilating! Can't breathe _ .

Bucky pulls the blanket back down, allowing more air in. “Hey.” He rubs Tony’s back. “Just breathe, okay?”

Tony chokes out a sob. Bucky doesn’t have enough hands to pet Tony all the places he feels he needs to.

"Sorry. I want you. I want you, not this." He clings to Bucky, afraid he'll just leave.

“This?” Bucky keeps holding him, trying to warm Tony with his body.

"What's wrong with you, Barnes?”

That is a long, long laundry list...

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need to.” It’s like he’s compelled to.

“Why do you want me to go with you?"  _ Why do you want me? _

“I don’t know.” It was just. Something he felt in the moment. It doesn’t make sense. He can’t explain it.

The air makes it a little easier. Tony tries to breathe with Bucky. That helps. That's helped in the past. Bucky rests his cheek against Tony’s, rubbing his back.

It takes a while, but he's stopped shaking. Stopped sobbing.

That was heartbreaking. Bucky’s at a loss. Holding Tony is the best he can do.

Tony wipes his snotty nose on his arm.  "Sorry. I didn't mean to snot all over you." Sexy.  Maybe the sex was a one time thing. Who wants to have sex with somebody after that?

“You didn’t.” Bucky finds his shirt and wipes Tony’s face. “You can blow your nose on it if you want.” So vulnerable. Bucky needs to protect him.

Tony pushes the shirt out of his face, annoyed, and grabs it away. "I can--I can do that!" He's not a child!

Bucky lets him be huffy, moving in to kiss Tony’s face gently, slowly, all over.

He tries to push away but eventually Tony gives in, going limp. It feels good. Bucky can taste the salt of Tony’s tears. He moves his right hand up to stroke Tony’s hair, kissing his eyelids, his cheeks, his earlobes, his neck. His fingers comb through Tony’s hair as Bucky goes on kissing him tenderly, taking his time. He’s never done anything like this. It’s like having something--someone--who’s his. Bucky wants to do it right.  

_ What's happening? _ Why is he doing that? Treating Tony like this? Oh god. It almost hurts. He clings, needing to be closer. Needing to be held. To hold another person.

Bucky lets Tony cling, just holding him. Stroking his left hand up and down Tony’s back. Trying to forget he’s naked. It’s nice, this clinging thing. It’s almost like Tony trusts him. But of course he doesn’t.

"You're--you don't have to do this." This wasn't supposed to happen. They were suppose to have sex again. 

Does he think Bucky’s doing this because Tony’s making him? “I know,” Bucky says softly, petting his right hand over Tony’s hair.

"Kiss me again." Tony tries to pull the blankets back up over their heads. Tries to forget the mess he's made of things.

Bucky makes sure there’s a good air hole when the blankets go up again. Kissing. Right. He kisses Tony’s forehead, then presses his lips against Tony’s, gently.

Tony sighs, content. He knows how to do this.  _ So soft. _ Like he's afraid Tony's breakable. Better prove him wrong.  He pushes Bucky forward so that Tony's on top. Lacing his fingers through that long beautiful hair and kissing him, turning up the intensity.

Bucky makes a small surprised noise.  _ Well that’s...okay.  _ “Tony...you don’t have to do this.” It’s like he’s trying to prove something. Just holding someone is a much more intimate act than sex for Bucky.

"Maybe I want to. Is that alright with you, Barnes?"

“Yeah.” Should he say it? “Don’t call me that?” It’s like part of him is still confused if Tony is his handler or not. He’s afraid to tell him he doesn’t like it.

He keeps kissing Bucky. Touching him. Making sure, he's not overly stiff, that he wants what Tony wants. This feels forced. Tony threads his fingers with Bucky’s. Maybe holding hands will help. "What should I call you?" he asks, quizzically.

_ Bucky. _ “I don’t know. Not that.”

Does he want what Tony wants? He takes their entwined hands and kisses Bucky's fingers. Blinks. It feels like Tony's crossed some kind of line.

Tony nuzzles Bucky's cheek, "You think of something, honey."

Bucky leans toward him, liking all the little contact. “Bucky.” Will he be mad? Because that’s what Steve called him? “My name is Bucky.” Barnes. That’s some guy who died in World War II.

"Alright, baby. Bucky."  If that's what he wants, he deserves to get what he wants.

“Baby is okay, too. And honey.” Those are nice things. If they’re not said sarcastically. Bucky kisses Tony’s bare shoulder. His skin tastes good. Maybe he should stop biting him…

"Your lips feel so good, sweetheart." Now it's a game. "Kiss me more, sugar." How many nice things can Tony call him?

“Th-they do?” No one’s ever said that to him before. Then again, he never spent a lot of time kissing people. “Tony…” He’s special. Bucky kisses down his shoulder and then moves lower, kissing his collarbone and teasing the top of his pec.

"They do, lover. Oh god, yeah they do!"

His tone is making Bucky worry a little.

Tony's enjoying this too much. Probably too much but- "Everywhere you touch me, I'm on fire. "

Bucky looks up. “Are you okay?” That doesn’t sound like a good thing.

Tony leans forward to kiss him. Such a lovely mouth. "More than fine. Way better then fine."

Oh. Well, okay. Bucky kisses Tony, experimenting with using his tongue. Wanting to touch more, he squeezes Tony’s fingers, sliding his metal hand down between them to tease Tony’s glory trail.

Tony moans softly.

“Oh.” That’s a nice noise. How can he make Tony do it again?

That feels… "Fantastic. Amazing. Metal fingers. More. Please? Please please?"

“You like….?” He slides his fingers down to Tony’s groin, stopping with his dick just resting in the curve between his thumb and index finger. “This?” He bends his head to gently bite Tony’s neck.

"Yes!" This is something he's wanted since Bucky took his pants off.

Bucky grips the base of his cock and gently strokes up once, then again, teasing. “Is that good?” He doesn’t want to hurt him.

Tony squeaks. Nods his head  with his eyes closed. What would those metal fingers feel like inside him?

Bucky settles his grip, stroking Tony over-handed. He’s worried he’ll chafe him. Needs oil, some kind of lubricant to do it right. For now, he keeps it gentle. Stops for a minute to stroke and cup Tony’s balls, growling happily. “I like you.” Likes touching him. He starts to move his hand faster on Tony’s dick. Sexy.

That's what he needed! Faster! His tongue meets Bucky's, and sparks fly behind his eyes. He pulls Bucky closer by the bottom.

Okay, this seems good for Tony. Bucky’s still worried about chafing him, but at least he’s using his flesh hand now. He moans, enjoying the kissing, starting to rub pre-come onto Tony’s thigh.

"Bucky." Tony whimpers, pulling him forward. Needing to kiss him more. Needing to touch him.  

Wow, this kind of kissing is...pretty nice. Bucky’s starting to grind on Tony without realizing it.

Tony happily grinds back, kissing him over and over. He slips a hand between Bucky's cheeks, experimentally. Testing the waters.

Bucky starts adding a little bit of suction to his kisses, rubbing the head of Tony’s cock in his fist. Tony can touch Bucky any way he wants. Bucky’s not bothered, he’s just trying to guess what Tony wants. When his hand moves, Bucky pushes back against it. He knows this one.

Tony’s frustrated. "More. I want  more." He’s whiney. Needy.

“More?” More what? Hands? Bucky reaches down to jerk him off while he strokes Tony’s balls and rubs his inner thighs, teases his taint. He’s getting really hard. Should Bucky blow him?

Tony’s hands settle on Bucky’s ass.  Such a nice, round, sweet thing. Feels good in his hands. "Wanna eat it."

Bucky’s sighing happily with Tony’s hands on his ass, when he says something strange. “Eat it?” Eat what? Is Tony still hungry?

"Let me eat it? Please please? You taste so good. I love the way your skin tastes. And your tongue. Please, angel?”

“What do you want?” What is he trying to eat? “My dick?” Honestly Tony can do whatever he wants. But Bucky thought he was enjoying getting jerked off.  

"Your ass, baby. Can I eat your ass? Turn around for, Tony. It'll feel good." Does he just not remember? This isn't new  to him, surely? Cap ate his butt whenever he wanted.

_ Oh. _ Bucky pushes back, nodding. That’s not usually how it goes, but he’ll do what Tony wants. He flips around, keeping his hands on Tony’s thighs. Not going to move away from him just because he wants this. He takes the opportunity of the new position to flick his tongue over the tip of Tony’s cock.

Tony bucks when he feels Bucky's tongue on his cock for the first time. He  sighs happily, bites Bucky's cheek.

Bucky grunts softly. He wasn’t expecting that. He bites Tony’s thigh for revenge. Then Bucky takes his time, licking Tony’s cock all over first, rubbing his face against it like a happy dog. Wait, does that hurt? He has a lot of stubble at this point...

Tingly. He can go harder. But Tony's not in a position to say that. Hmmm, Bucky doesn't sound too relaxed. Tony's fingers tiptoe up Bucky's thigh, gently cup his balls, and rub his taint.

Bucky breathes through his nose, calm. He knows what’s coming.

_ Okay. Okay okay okay _ . He's in control here. Tony spreads Bucky open. Rims him, wanting to feel him relax.

Bucky grunts again. No, he remembers this? Maybe. Did one of his handlers do this once? Doesn’t matter. He sighs, focusing on Tony’s dick. On petting his thighs, stroking his sack. He pushes the head into his mouth, sucks and licks, tasting Tony, moaning.

He grips Bucky tight, whines happily, squirming. This is different than he's used to, that's for sure. Other people wouldn't grow a beard for him. Whatever. That's not a road he wants to go down again.

Bucky swallows a little more. Tony seems happy. He reaches up, gently drags his nails own Tony’s thighs.

Maybe Tony should slow down. "Okay, babe?"

Bucky nods, then realizes that’s not an effective way to communicate. He pulls off Tony’s cock. “Yeah. You can do what you want.” That’s how sex works, right? And Tony’s tongue feels nice. His beard is tickling Bucky’s buttcheeks.

That's... that doesn't sound right. He pauses, leaning his head on Bucky's ass and hugging his thighs. "What do you want?"

This...is a weird position to have this conversation. Bucky carefully climbs off and lies down. Puts his hands behind his head and thinks. “I like touching you. If you like it.” He looks up at Tony to see what he thinks.

He pouts a little. Bucky's butt is comfortable.  But something on Bucky's face gives him pause. Tony strokes his cheek. "I do. I like when you touch me." His nose, his lips. "What do you like?"

“I like...the sounds you make. The way you smell. I like not getting shot. Being free.” Well, as free as he can be, given the things in his head.

Does this mean Tony isn't going to get to come? Then again, this is his choice, why is he complaining? He lays his head on Bucky's chest, petting him. Kissing him.

He likes that… Bucky puts his arms around Tony.

"What else? What else do you like, darling?"

Bucky sighs. This is hard. Too hard. “No one ever asks me that.” What’s he supposed to say? Plums? Peace and quiet? Not killing people? This is getting into dangerous territory. “This?” Bucky reaches down, gripping Tony’s dick. It’s pretty nice. He strokes it.

Tony tries to stifle a moan.

Oh, that’s a nice noise.

He thought... "You. I like you."  Oh. Was that out loud?

“I don’t know why.” He has no reason to. “But I like you, Tony.” Bucky touches his face. “I really like you.” They’re connected. He feels drawn to him. And the need to protect him. And make him happy.

"I--I mean you did save me or whatever. And you-"  _ held me when I needed it. _ "You're really attractive. And um-" Why is he trying to justify it?

“I am?” Bucky pets Tony’s cheek, looking at his pretty eyes. He’s still stroking his dick, though. You can do both, right? He drags Tony on top of him, pops his dick between Bucky’s muscular thighs and squeezes, stroking him that way. Now he can kiss him. And he does, cupping Tony’s cheek, slow and sweet.

He whimpers, happily. "What's happening here?" God, he's so confused.

“Um.” Bucky touches his butt. “Sex?”

"You want me to go with you because you like me?  You want me?"

“Yeah.” And he feels better when Tony’s with him.  

It's nice to know someone still finds him attractive. "That feels so good, sugar pie. Honey comb. Dear heart."

“You…” Bucky tentatively strokes Tony’s butt. Kisses him. “You like fuckin’ me?”

"Yes!" Too loud.

Bucky snickers. Well if grandma wasn’t watching before...

He buries his face in Bucky's chest.

Bucky pets his hair. Tony is cute. Why is he so cute?

"You next? I get to make you come?" Gripping Bucky's shoulders. "I want to."

“You did last night,” Bucky admits shyly. He lifts Tony’s chin to kiss him some more. “Maybe we can come together.” He rubs against Tony’s abs, stroking him more firmly between his thighs. “Oh, Tony…”

"Yes. Yeah.  Come on me." So tight. So tight he's losing control.  He balances on the bed with one hand, touches Bucky with the other. His neck, his chest, his abs.

“Mmmm.” Honestly, Bucky’s having more fun kissing Tony. “Yeah, fuck me, Tony.” Wow, his dick feels good. “Love...love touching you.” Whoa, what did he almost say?

"Love touching you, too, Bucky bear."

Bucky...bear? “I like that.” It’s nice.

Tony’s too far gone to notice any details he might have otherwise. "Kiss me more, pretty Bucky." Sad eyes. Reminds him of something.

Bucky kisses Tony, rolling him over. It’s easier to rub against him from on top. “Tony,” he pants. “Do you want to come in me?” He grinds against him, rubbing Tony between his thighs.

He cries out, pulls at Bucky's hair. So loud. He finds he doesn't care all that much.

Whoa. Bucky tries to kiss him quiet. If only they were alone. In a motel room.

"Yes." He whispers it, licking Bucky's neck. Bucky's doing all the work now. "I-I want you to come."

Bucky scrambles up, straddling Tony. He holds his cock and spreads himself over it, taking Tony in fast but not too fast. “Come on, baby.” Bucky starts to move, pushing Tony in deeper. “Give it to me.” He takes Tony’s hand and puts it on his cock.

The heat in here's been dialed to eleven. He's gripping Bucky's hip to steady him and his hand is trying to keep rhythm with Bucky.   

Bucky leans back, gripping Tony’s thighs, thrusting into Tony’s hand, pushing back on his cock. “Nnn, Tony...you’re in me...feels good…” He pants, moving faster. “I love you...love your cock.”

Tony can't really concentrate. Feels drunk with lust. What was that? Bucky loves him? He can't think about that right now. "Oh baby, I wanna come. Wanna come inside you. Fill you up.”

“Do it, Tony.” He bounces faster, higher, grips Tony’s fist on him, fucking it more urgently. And then--

_ No, thoughts, why? _ Bucky suddenly realizes how wrong this is. He doesn’t stop moving, but his eyes are burning, and there’s a suffocating feeling in his chest. “Tony…”

"Christ! Fuck!" He's coming hard, flopping back on the bed, hips still moving.

“Hnn!” Bucky shivers, feeling Tony come inside him. It’s nice. Too nice. He doesn’t deserve nice.

He grins sleepily up at Bucky, petting his cheek gently.

Bucky covers Tony’s hand with his own. He’s so sweet. He should go home where he can be with people who deserve him.

"That was nice. I like you even more now."

Bucky gasps, trying not to cry. “Thanks, honey.” He kisses Tony’s palm. “You’re amazing.” He slides off, grabs his shirt to wipe Tony up. He has to get out of here. Now. Bucky slides out of bed, grabbing his pants.

Tony grips his hand, tugs him back against the bed. "Stay. I can't-"  _ handle another person leaving me.  _ "-follow you right now. My legs aren't working."

Bucky looks back at Tony, feeling guilty, feeling a lot of different things. He leans back, kissing him. “It’ll just be for a minute. Don’t worry, honey.” Bucky kisses him again. He smells good. Like sex.

"Don't go." He's lying. Tony can tell.  He grips Bucky's hand harder. "Stay. Stay and go to sleep with me."

Bucky sighs. His urge to run is so strong. His need to get away, so Tony can find something better...but he’s caught. He takes a deep breath. “I’ll try.” He slides back under the blankets, feeling Tony’s come slippery inside him. But it’s nice. Bucky lies down next to him. “Will you come inside me tomorrow, too?”

"If you're here tomorrow." Tony watches him closely, his chin on Bucky's  chest.

Bucky frowns. “What do you mean?”  

He brushes Bucky's hair out of his eyes.  "What happened?"

Bucky shakes his head, shuts his eyes. He can’t talk to Tony about this. It will make it worse. Sooner. Why is he suddenly pretending Bucky didn’t kill his family?

"Trying to leave."

_ Damn. What the hell? _

Tony wraps his arms around Bucky's chest. "Trying to leave me."

“I don’t want to leave you.” That makes him sound even worse.

"Come on. It can't be that bad."

“Tony.” Bucky pushes fingers into his mussed hair. “Being with me...it wouldn’t be good for you. You should be somewhere safe. With people who can give you what you need.”

"Who's gonna do that, huh? You think people are jumping out of the woodwork to hold me during a panic attack?" Bucky has no idea what his life is like.

Bucky doesn’t know. Doesn’t everyone love Tony? He’s rich and handsome and says clever things. Surely there are people who take care of him at home. And what about Steve? Steve would probably be good at that. “No?” He slides his arms loosely around Tony’s waist. Oh, his bare ass is down there. Bucky pats it just for good measure.

Rhodey doesn't live in the complex and no one else gives hugs like Steve does. Tony imagines Vision hugging him and it gives him the creeps. "Not anymore." Maybe Bucky forgot. Maybe it has something to do with the electricity they push in him all the time. "I'm pretty sure Cap broke up with me.”

“What? When?” Wouldn’t you be sure if someone broke up with you?

“Besides, he lied. About something unforgivable. And I don't want to see him right now. "

Bucky sighs. “Tony, you don’t know that. Zemo could have been lying.” Honestly it sounds like Tony’s breaking up with Steve, not the other way around. Wait, he just fucked Steve’s boyfriend. Whoops.

"We had this fight over--" their kid "it doesn't matter what the fight was over. We had a fight and he threw stuff in my face. Threw a gift back in my face. And honestly, honey, things haven't been going great for a while." The ups and downs. That's all of his relationships it seems.

People fight and are still together, though, right? Bucky honestly doesn’t know. Relationships are not something he remembers. “No?”

"No. Not in a long time." Since D.C.  Something happened to him there and Tony has never been sure what.

Bucky’s not sure what to think about that. Or what feelings to have.

"It's highly suspect." He looks up at Bucky through his lashes.

“Huh?” What is?

"You know, he doesn't talk about you. Like ever."

Bucky thinks about this. “Well, that makes sense. I did kill him.” He would have drowned for sure. Bucky doesn’t really expect Steve to be talking about him ever. But somehow he’s still holding on.  

"When?"  Tony's indignant. And confused. Isn't he angry with Steve?

“Couple years ago.” Bucky knows the exact date, but that’s not how real boys talk. He can translate from the computer in his head, when it’s working right.

_ Compose yourself, Stark. Breathe. _ "I really don't think that's it. I think he doesn't talk about you because it hurts to."

Bucky shrugs. He doesn’t want to know what Steve feels about him. It’s too confusing.

"What happened?" Tony has his suspicions.

A lot. A lot Bucky doesn’t want to remember. Some he can’t remember. “They sent me to stop him. So I shot him. He wouldn’t shut up, so I hit him until he stopped. Then he fell.” A sudden migraine makes Bucky clutch his head. Falling. He doesn’t like that.

"Where was this?" Tony's pretty sure he knows the answer to this one, too.

“SHIELD. Washington.” Bucky doesn’t want to remember this. Any of this. He needs to go.

Tony pets his chest, not looking at him. "As far as I can tell, none of this is your fault."

“That doesn’t matter.” Bucky rolls away and gets up. Nothing’s different if it’s his fault or not.

Where's he going? Did Tony push to hard? "I'm sorry! No, no, no! Don't leave. Don't leave me in the cold, Bucky bear, please?" He reaches for Bucky's hand, panicky.

“I just need some air,” Bucky croaks, pushing his hair back. “Not leaving.” But he walks out of the chum so fast, he leaves his shoes and shirt behind.


	6. The King and the Soap Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In their budding relationship crisis, Tony and Bucky forgot they're being hunted by more than just super soldiers, Avengers, and Interpol. Now Tony has to convince T'Challa that Bucky is innocent, before he's put to death for killing T'Chaka. The soon-to-be-crowned King of Wakanda has everything under control. Everything except Shuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. Really glad I waited to see BP before posting the next chapter.

Outside is painfully cold, and that’s fine. Pain is better than thinking. As the heat leeches from his body visibly into the subzero air, Bucky listens. Something is wrong. The reindeer are dead quiet. Reindeer are never dead quiet.

 

Tony scrambles after Bucky, stopping to pull on his clothes and winter gear. His body can't take hypothermia again. Is he actually recovered? Probably not. But what's it matter? Bucky's having some kind of episode. Bucky needs him.

 

Bucky starts to turn just as razors slash down his back, gauging deep wounds. He rolls away, leaving red snow, trying to face his attacker, who’s practically invisible against the white landscape, and how’s that possible? Bucky stops another blow with his metal arm, kicks the man off him and starts to run. What is with this guy? He can hear his pursuer’s footsteps gaining on him. Being barefoot on ice is not the best for traction, he realizes too late.

 

Tony steps outside the chum less than five minutes later, and Bucky's just...gone. "Bucky!" The freezing wind throws the cry back in his face.

 _Tony._ Bucky turns back, blocking a swipe with his metal arm, trying to hold the king at bay. He doesn’t want to hurt him, but T’Challa really seems to want to claw his eyes out. He turns his head, taking a slash across the cheek. “I didn’t kill your father!” he grunts. But it’s clear the king is not buying that.

“Then why did you run?”

What kind of stupid fucking question is that? Has the guy looked in the mirror lately?

Tony follows the footprints in the snow, coming across a large smear of blood. He can't follow Bucky. What can he do? He can't go fast enough. Not strong enough. He can't do anything without his armor. Disturbed and horrified, Tony runs back to Khadne’s, screaming bloody murder.

The family sits up. Faces are peeking out all around the camp. But no one’s willing to get involved. They’ve seen men come for the Winter Soldier before. They know it’s safer for everyone if they stay out of the way. Grandma urges Tony to sit down, take it easy. It will all be over soon, and then they won’t see the Soldier for another ten or twenty years again.

 

Hidden by Wakandan cloaking technology, the Black Panther’s jet sits, waiting. Its superior weaponry could take Barnes out in seconds, but this is revenge. And not just revenge, but T’Challa must avenge the death of his king as well as his father. This must be done the traditional way, through hand to hand combat.

 

Tony can’t just let Bucky be taken! Sit there and do nothing...he can’t do that. He just can’t do that. But Tony can't do a goddamn thing without any of his tech, and he feels like he's wandering around in the snow without any real way to help. _Help Bucky. Don't be snow blind and lost._

 

Bucky has no chance here. Maybe if he could knock the king out, but with what? And would that really help? He has no choice. Those claws get in one hit after another. Bucky has no shirt, much less armor. He’s bleeding all over the snow. He tries to concentrate his blows at T’Challa’s head, but it’s all he can do to keep the king at bay.

He tries running again, but he’s just not fast enough. The cold is starting to get to him. Maybe if he plays dead. Maybe if he pretends to pass out, the king won’t kill him. Maybe he just wants to take Bucky back to Interpol. But the way he keeps shouting “Die!” with half of his blows...is probably indicative of something else. _Well, here goes nothing._ T’Challa performs a jump kick, and Bucky doesn’t block it, takes it right to the head. He falls in the snow, hoping, just hoping the king won’t kill him when he’s “unconscious.”

It's so dark. And cold. Too cold to really see but Tony does find Bucky, bleeding all over the snow with his adversary standing over him. He has to do something, so Tony makes a snowball, calculates the trajectory, and throws it at the King of Wakanda.

T’Challa pauses before delivering the death blow. Was that...snow? He turns around slowly. “Stark. Barnes is mine.” Just to make things clear. A snowball fight can wait until later.

"Looks like he can't tell you otherwise." _Talk yourself out of this._ He inches backwards, side stepping. "He can't even defend himself. Half naked in the dark? You think that's what your father would have wanted?" Is Bucky breathing? Is he dead?

“I am not my father.”

"All I ever did was argue with my father. Was yours a good man? A good husband? Is this what he would have wanted you to do? Condemning an innocent man to death? I can prove it wasn't him. The man you want is dead." _So much blood. Don't panic. Breathe._ "Or you can kill him and I can prove it wasn't him anyway and you'll have murdered an innocent man. Is that what King T’Chaka would have wanted?"

What is Stark trying to do? The king stands up straight. “You base this claim on what evidence?”

"Do you have a laptop?”

The king snorts. A laptop. Is that the information technology the smartest American uses?

“I need to break into some secure servers."

“Tell me what you are looking for.” T’Challa doesn’t have time to trifle with inferior means of obtaining the facts.

Tony kneels next to Bucky in the snow. Stupid man, trying to run away from him in the middle of the night. In the cold. Into an ambush.

T’Challa watches Stark with the kingslayer. “Why do you defend him?” Likely it’s a classic case of Stockholm syndrome.

Tony brushes Bucky's hair back, cups his cheek, runs his hand down his neck to check his pulse. Lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. _Alive._

That has to be Tony. Bucky would know that touch anywhere. But still, he keeps his eyes shut.

"Maybe put Bucky back in his bed and we’ll talk?" That's too much to ask, but he's asking anyway.

“He will not be back in a bed for a very long time.” T’Challa grabs Barnes by his ankle and starts to drag him back to the jet.

Tony hurries behind him, seeing he doesn’t have much time to convince T’Challa of Bucky’s innocence. "I'm looking for the psychiatrist. The fake psychiatrist. The one who kidnapped me. He's the one to blame for this, not Bucky."

“This man is the one who kidnapped you,” T’Challa points out. “Perhaps you do not remember.”

Oh, he remembers Bucky being brainwashed. "He kept me from freezing to death. Kept me from doing things I'd regret.”

“A competent kidnapper does not let his hostage die.”

Frustrated, Tony wants desperately to lash out. But the king has Bucky's life in his hands. Literally. He has to put those feelings in a box. "But I remember. I remember Bucky bringing me to the psychiatrist by his orders, as Bucky's handler. Bucky did what he was told because he had to. That man knew the words to turn on the Soldier and turn off Bucky's willpower. I watched it happen. I know how it works. He isn't--he's not a killer."

“He is a killer. And a well-documented one. Perhaps he did not kill my father, but he will spend the rest of his life in prison.”

 _He's not he's not he's not!_ Tony follows them, wincing every time Bucky's head bounces off the ground. "No. See, you're not understanding what I'm saying here. You have willpower. You could kill Bucky or me if you wanted to. But if one of Bucky's--" What's a good word? "His keepers--his handlers, if they tell him to do something, he has to do it." His Bucky's not a killer. His Bucky's broken.

“I find that difficult to believe.” Finally they reach the jet, and T’Challa signals it to open. As it does, the jet becomes visible.

Nat sits up, handcuffed to something inside. “Looks like you’re alive.” She looks at Barnes, trying to discern if he is or not.

"Nat." Tony’s eyes are wide with surprise, as much from seeing Romanov as that little trick the royal jet just pulled. "Is kidnapping becoming an aspiration for you? Do you have any more of my friends locked up in your jet?"

T’Challa turns to him. “Ms. Romanov chose to interfere with my retrieval of Barnes. She was restrained for her own safety.”

“Steve’ll be happy,” Nat says, seeing Barnes breathing and Tony in one piece.

"Where is he?" Tony hides his panic pretty well.

“He’s…” She looks at T’Challa. “Somewhere safe.”

While they talk, the king places an immobilizing device behind Barnes’ ear which takes away his motor control. A kimoyo bead deactivates his mechanical arm; much more effective than handcuffs. If Stark is stalling so that Barnes can wake up and fight again, it’s not going to work. The prisoner secured, T’Challa tosses Stark the Wakandan communication device Shuri disguised as a cell phone for his diplomatic mission, locked down, of course. It will only do what other cell phones do unless he activates it. “If you can find me evidence to support these claims, I will turn your friend over to Interpol. If not, he comes back to Wakanda with me.”

Tony takes the cell phone. Berlin security footage. That's easy. There's the bastard.  What's his real name? Cross referencing is what takes the longest to scan through. Where's FRIDAY when you need her? He's only human after all. Still it takes--not that long. It's not hard to decipher Zemo’s accent or his anger as being Sokovian--and isn't that funny? Isn't that what started all this?--and while he was not a master villain by any means, he had been resourceful. He’d carried himself in a way that screamed military. The records were Tony’s to pilfer through. "There's your man. Helmut Zemo. He kidnapped me for--really I have no idea. He was nuts. That's a reason. You do the facial recognition yourself."

“If as you say this man was controlling Barnes, it changes nothing. He still killed my father, and for that he must pay.” Tony hands the tablet back to the king and crouches next to Bucky, needing to touch him, needing to feel him breathing. Bucky wishes he could reach out for Tony, reassure him somehow, but it’s like his body no longer obeys his brain. He can’t move. And then he’s jerked away as the king hoists him into the plane like a sack of potatoes. “Are you coming, Mr. Stark? You and Ms. Romanov can both find your own transportation from Africa.”

“You mean we get to leave while you put Captain America’s best friend to death? Sure is generous.”

“Do not test my patience, Ms. Romanov.”

"You didn't--" The king’s not listening to Tony. Isn't he supposed to be smart enough to keep up? "This is the man that blew up the U.N." He grabs the phone back. His Bucky was framed. "See?" Zemo and the fake Bucky are a match with the open source facial recognition program he finds online. Tony can fix this. He has to. He looks up at Nat. "Nobody's dying. "

The king gives the phone no more than a passing glance. “I will analyze this more closely when we return.” Then he’s climbing into the pilot’s seat. “Are you coming, Stark?” He’s impatient to be off.

Nat tries to make room in the back, but there’s not much of it and Bucky is taking up quite a bit. How is it his face keeps ending up in her crotch? Tony climbs in next to Nat, who looks vaguely uncomfortable.

No touching. Nope. Bucky's fine. Bucky doesn't need it anyway, Tony does.  "Do you have a first aid kit somewhere? If you're going to execute him, you don't want him to die of blood loss first, right?"

Bucky wishes he could do more than just lean limply against Tony, bleeding on him. He wishes he could tell him he’s okay. But there’s no one he’d rather bleed on right now--certainly not the redhead who tried to pussy-strangle him in Berlin. Just having Tony here is a relief.

 

T’Challa sighs, reluctantly activating his communication kimoyo bead, setting it to audio only. “ _Shuri_ …”

“ _Brother!_ ” She sounds excited and worried all at once. “ _Did you catch the murderer?”_

T’Challa smirks. _“Of course I did. Who do you think you’re talking to?”_

_“My brother? Who thinks so much, he sometimes trips over his own feet?”_

_“You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.”_

_“Oh, speaking of feet! I made you some new--”_

_“Just a moment.”_ T’Challa glances behind him. Does Romanov speak Xhosa? It’s not worth the risk.

 

Nat sees him looking and focuses on Tony and Barnes. “You two made friends,” she observes. Just talking to her teammate. She has no idea what T’Challa’s saying in his one-sided conversation with someone named Shuri. Now if he would just get back to it…

"That's what happens in these life and death situations," Tony says. It's why everyone puts up with him, right?

“I dunno.” Nat gives them a funny look. “When it happened with us, Barnes just shot me.” Looks like Tony paid for the upgrade.

" _He_ never shot at me." That makes Tony pause.

Funny, that’s not how Nat remembers that fight.

 

 _“Wait, you’re not alone there?”_ T’Challa can hear her manipulating her sand table, finding a way to peer into the jet’s interior without being seen by its passengers. _“Oh, look at her! Is she your new girlfriend? I’m going to tell Nakia!”_

_“Don’t you dare.”_

_“You can’t stop me, brother, I’m sending her a coded message right now--”_

_“SHURI!”_

_“Well she deserves to know you’ve developed a taste for white girls--”_

_“Please listen to me for once.”_

She sighs. _“Fine.”_ He can hear from her tone she’s feeling smug at having successfully trolled him yet again.

_“That woman is the Black Widow. She’s an international spy--much less efficient than our war dogs, of course, but--”_

_“The girl Avenger! Oh thank you for bringing her back to meet me, brother! I take back all the mean things I just said!”_

_“Shuri--”_

_“Is that her real hair color? Is she wearing makeup? Is her catsuit also armor? What’s it made of?”_

_“Sister, please!”_ It’s so hard to get a word in edgewise when Shuri is fangirling. But after he interrupts, he can almost feel her leaning into the 3D image, examining the other occupants of the jet.

_“Who are they?”_

_“One is the man who murdered--”_

_“Are they in love?”_ That throws T’Challa for a moment. He’s not sure how to respond, but she doesn’t give him time anyway. _“Look how the tiny white boy is holding the bigger one. That’s so romantic--Wait, is that a metal prosthetic arm? Is it functional? I NEED TO SEE IT!”_

T’Challa winces as her voice in his ear is suddenly deafening. _“Sister._ ” He sighs. _“I am bringing this man back to Wakanda to stand trial for his crimes before the council.”_

_“So it was him, ah? I’ll tear that metal arm right out of its socket! I don’t care if they are in love!”_

Why is she focused on this? Is it a teenage thing? _“I put my claws in him a bit. He may need medical attention if he is to make it to trial.”_

 _“Say no more, brother.”_ The remote control robotic arms unfold from the jet’s interior. _“I just love fixing broken things. But I won’t be gentle with him! And no vibranium! Don’t worry.”_

_“Why would I worry? My little sister can do anything.”_

_“Better than you!”_

_“Hey.”_

 

Tony watches as robotic arms come at Bucky, performing first aid and brandishing a long needle to stitch his wounds shut. Disappointing. He was hoping to do it himself, but at least Bucky's conscious. Tony holds him around the waist. Buries his face in Bucky's neck. So scared. He was so scared. "Do you want my jacket?"

Bucky wishes he could respond. “Neural interrupter,” Nat says, tapping the plastic disc behind Bucky’s ear. “He won’t be able to move until they deactivate it.”

 

_“I like her; she’s smart. Is that why you’re dating her?”_

_“I am not dating her!”_

_“If you’re not interested in dating her, then why do you keep bringing it up?”_

_“I’m disconnecting you.”_

_“You can terminate your end, brother, but I’m still here.”_

He cuts the connection and picks a different frequency. _“W’Kabi. General.”_

_“My king.”_

_“All of Wakanda awaits your return, your majesty.”_

_“I have recently received some intel. I would like both of you to analyze it. Consult the Hatut Zeraze. I would know if this is true or just another colonizer’s lies.”_ He transfers them Stark’s ‘evidence’ from his ‘cell phone.’ The silence on the other end of the connection betrays his first and second’s curiosity. Then he hears a clink of armor as Okoye elbows her partner.

_“Right away, my king.”_

_“We will report as soon as we have determined the truth.”_

_“Thank you, General.”_ While he waits, T’Challa takes time to examine the information himself as he pilots the jet. But it seems Shuri was meddling--as usual--while he was busy with Okoye and W’Kabi. Because he can hear Barnes’ voice now. He shouldn’t be able to speak if the neural interrupter is functioning properly.

_“Shuri.”_

_“What? The small one kept asking his lover questions, and he couldn’t answer. I had to let him speak. Who doesn’t enjoy a good American soap opera?”_ T’Challa closes his eyes and sighs.

 

“Just touch me,” Bucky mutters to Tony. Tony’s hands are all the warmth he needs. “Sorry...blood on you.”

"Hush. It's fine. I don't care if I'm a little bloody." Tony wants to kiss him. Kiss him like he's drowning and Bucky's the air he needs to survive. "You’re not cold?"

“No.” Not anymore.

What can Tony do to help? "What do you need?"

 _You._ Bucky just wraps his arms around Tony, leaning on him.

“Not sure how Steve’s gonna take this,” Nat says, eyeing them dubiously.

Resting his chin on Bucky's shoulder, he looks up at Nat. Needs to know. "Steve? What did they do to him?"

“Beat him up, took his plane.” He’s not much worse for wear. “He’ll probably meet us there once he knows where...we are.”

"So he's fine." Good enough to travel. Relief. Apprehension. Anger. Joy. He doesn't know how to deal with all this.

“He’s beat up. But when has that ever stopped Steve?” Bucky snorts. True fact. He hugs Tony a little tighter, nuzzling his shoulder.

"Never. He jumps out of planes without a parachute for fun." And Jesus, was it sexy. “But I have a bone to pick with him, anyway." Steve can go fuck himself. Unless... none of that's true. And if it's not, what was the point of the revenge sex? Nat was there in DC. She knows. He keeps his mouth shut.

“He’s not going to sign, Tony.” They’ve been over this. He tried.

"What?" He blinks. "Oh, right, yeah."  That matters so little right now he literally forgot about it. "No. I know."  

“I’m guessing it’s a different bone, then?” She eyes the way Barnes is acting with him.

"Yup. That's all you get, widow. Find someone else to web up.” Nat shakes her head. She’s not getting involved in any of this. "You should sleep, Bucky bear," Tony whispers in his ear, and Nat’s eyebrow rises higher. Tony’s too awake after all of the adventure, but Bucky lost a lot of blood.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t?” Bucky asks. Too bad they’re not alone.

"Hold you until you fall asleep."

What...why? Why does Bucky feel so funny right now? Is it the blood loss?

Tony  tries to find a piece of him that isn't cut up and bloody, maybe then Tony won't hurt him. He gently massages Bucky's hip, still holding him. Bucky sighs, suppressing a whimper.

“Wow. You guys might be even worse than you and Steve. Your majesty, can I come up there with you?”

“No.”

 _Well that one hurts._ "Cap doesn't care about me, Nat,” Tony tells her. “The only thing he wants is Bucky." No compromises. There's no talking it out.

“Right. That’s why he broke up with you two years ago. Oh, wait.”

Bucky feels weird. He shouldn’t be hearing this.

T’Challa has had more than enough of Relationship Hour, and Shuri squealing in his ear about it is not helping. He gives everyone the subtle message to be quiet by turning on some very loud music with a deep bass that vibrates the entire jet. They stay quiet for the rest of the flight, Bucky quietly angsting, Nat wondering what she should tell Steve, and Tony thinking of how else he can prove Bucky's innocence to the king.


	7. Come What May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they arrive in Wakanda, T'Challa must decide just what to do with Barnes and his friends. Trying to keep Shuri from pouncing them will be no easy task, either. 
> 
> In a vibranium holding cell, Bucky and Tony say their last goodbye, heedless of their audience.

When they arrive in Wakanda, T’Challa puts up a vision barrier so his guests don’t see him flying through the rainforest projection into the capital. Shuri has the landing platform inside the mine shielded as well. Being underground covers some, but not everything foreigners must not see. Upon landing, he climbs out to meet his waiting advisers. The Dora look visibly relieved to have him back. Shuri must have been spinning them tales about his legendary ineptitude again. What a sense of humor.

Okoye and W’Kabi look troubled.  “Is it true?” he asks them.

W’Kabi nods. “It is. Digital surveillance traced Zemo to an airport in Siberia where he met the terrorist and his captive.”

T’Challa looks to Okoye. “He wore a mask when he planted the bomb in Vienna. It was found with the U.N. psychiatrist’s body in Berlin.”

T’Challa presses his lips together and nods. “How did we not catch this?”

“You were so certain--” W’Kabi begins.

“I count on you to correct me when I lose my way.”

Okoye’s eyes soften. “It was a difficult time for all of us.”

“Brother!” A pig-tailed head pops out of the science spiral, Shuri waving enthusiastically. Annoyed as he is, T’Challa can’t help but smile. She runs to him for their secret handshake. “May I see the metal arm and the lady Avenger now?”

“No. Ms. Romanov must leave at once, before she sees things she should not see.”

Shuri looks like she’s considering a pout. “But can’t I meet her first? What kind of brother are you, bringing interesting people back home and then sending them away before I can meet them?”

He nods to Ayo. “Escort Ms. Romanov to the office.” Then T’Challa looks at his sister. “IF she wishes to meet you, you may speak with her so long as you promise to be discreet.”

“Who, me? I’m always discreet!” she insists. T’Challa tries not to chuckle as her bronze and blue braids sway with the insistent movement of her head.

He looks at Okoye. “I’m placing Barnes in your hands.” T’Challa glances blame at Shuri. “He is no longer immobilized.”

Okoye nods, striking the ground with the butt of her spear. “Ancient colonizer technology does not concern me.”

“No. I imagine it does not. Sister.” He gestures for Shuri to go back into the labs.

“But, brother, I want to see them!”

“ _Sun’qhela!_ ”

There is the pout she’d been threatening earlier. “You’re not king yet. You can’t tell me what to do!” But she stalks off, muttering to herself. “Bossing me around. We’ll just see about that.”

When she’s out of sight, T’Challa raises the canopy cover of his ship, revealing a landing platform surrounded by grey metal walls--illusionary projected walls--to his guests. He releases Romanov’s restraints, and she climbs down after a word to her male companions. T’Challa subtly watches W’Kabi watching her. So does Okoye, who calls the Dora into protective formation. T’Challa knows better than to tell his general that won’t be necessary. No sooner do Romanov’s feet touch the ground than Stark appears, assisting Barnes in getting out. T’Challa knows the super soldier’s capabilities, has been watching his vitals for their entire flight. He doesn’t need Stark’s assistance, so why is Barnes leaning against him so heavily?

Led by Okoye, the Dora surround Barnes, separating the two men, and herding the captive toward the holding cells below. With a look of disgust W’Kabi reserves for colonizers, he turns and follows T’Challa to the council chambers.

Tony feels like part of him is being ripped apart. It's just a few hours. Surely he can

handle a few hours. And this way he won't be so distracted with Bucky away from him, and he can concentrate on saving him. Still. It breaks his heart watching Bucky go.  

Bucky watches Tony as he’s led away, as if this will be the last time he gets to see him.

Seeing they’re meant to follow a different guard, Nat turns to Tony. “So, what do you want me to tell Steve?”

But Tony’s still solely focused on Bucky. He takes a step, reaches for him and his mouth starts up on its own. "I love you."

“Oh god.” Nat did not sign up for a soap opera.

Bucky looks even more sad. But he doesn’t reach for Tony. He doesn’t want to make this worse.

When their guard gestures for them to follow her--they’re not far from the rest of the royal guard--the gears in Tony’s head begin to spin. Where are they taking him? Should he go with them? He grab’s Nats arm and pulls her along faster. He’s decided, they're going with Bucky. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know." Because this is fucking confusing.

“Are you trying to get locked up with Barnes?” she asks. “Because T’Challa will probably let you.” It’s supposed to be a warning, not a suggestion.

"Is that an option? A last meal thing?" They're going to have to hurry to catch up. Maybe if they act like they're supposed to be here, behind the guards like this, it'll be acceptable.

Nat’s eyes widen. “Are you his last meal?”

That's what he meant, yeah. _Oh no._ Why is their guard turning down a different path? Nat glares a warning at Tony and grips his sleeve, trying to tug him along. But he pulls away and follows the women who’re taking Bucky. Their escort stops and watches him do it, speaking, bored, into a communicator Nat can’t see.

_“You have an insect on your flank.”_

_“Noted,”_ Okoye replies _. “Do not let the redhead distract you this time.”_

 _“Jealous.”_ Ayo’s face remains its usual resting warrior face, betraying nothing of the conversation. She leads the little spy to the visitors’ office, as instructed.

The guards usher Bucky into a cell before activating some kind of sonic force field that Tony has a lot of questions about. Then the one in gold orders all the rest but one to leave. Tony figures she must be in charge. She and the guard in silver stand on each side of the cell. Tony watches Bucky curl up on the metal bench inside, looking miserable. He can’t help it. Tony places his hands against the invisible force field, and gets blown back hard against the opposite wall, feeling a little bit like that first time he tried his jet boots.

_“This is the smartest man in America?”_

Okoye can hear Shuri eating snacks in the background. _“Oh no! He must love the big one so much.”_

_“What would your brother say if he knew you were watching this?”_

_“Quiet! The little one is talking again.”_

"Fuck. Ow. Bucky? Can you hear me?"

Bucky looks around. “Tony?” Why did he follow? He wanders over to the force field, tempted to touch it.

"Do you trust me, honey?" Sweet, beautiful Bucky. Tony needs to touch him.

Bucky nods. He holds his hand up to the field, not quite touching it.

"You're going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of here."

 

Okoye snorts. _“Holy Bast. I have to record this for Michelle!”_ Shuri says. 

_“What did Nakia tell you about oversharing with your new worldwideweb friend?”_

_“Fine, then I’ll show Nakia!”_

 

Bucky shakes his head. He’s going to prison. But first… “Can you...come in here?”

"I wish I could." And he hopes Bucky can see how true it is. Tony wants so badly to lean into Bucky's hand. "I’m gonna get you out of there. Then we can go wherever you want. Do whatever you want to do."

“You still want to come with me?” This is madness. Tony is not okay. Bucky doesn’t want Tony to come to prison with him. If he did though...Bucky might be happy there.

Tony lifts his hand next to Bucky’s. He can hear the buzz of the force field between them. It feels sort of dumb to stand here like this, but the need is so strong he can't fight it.

Bucky eyes the forcefield, tempted to try touching Tony’s hand anyway. He eyes the guards. If he was selfish, he’d ask them to let Tony in. But he’s not. He looks back at Tony, longingly.

"I have to get you out of here first. And then they'll give you a nice room." And they can fuck. And Bucky can put those fingers inside him.

Bucky shakes his head. This will likely be much nicer than the prison cell he ends up with. But Tony doesn’t need to think about sad stuff like that.

"I want to come with you." And this time Tony means it. This isn't on a whim.

His cock bucks. Bucky looks down at his jeans, accusingly. Where did that come from? He looks back at Tony, embarrassed. “I want you...be safe. You can’t go where I’m going.”

"We'll go together. Because you're going to be fine and I'm going to get you out of here. Alright?" Stubborn.

Bucky shakes his head. Is Tony just in denial? Bucky looks at their hands, an inch apart feels too far. “I wanna touch you again. Do you think I can?” Before they send him away?

He huffs, frustrated. Tony's determined, and that's a very dangerous thing. He turns to the guard in gold. "Is he allowed a conjugal visit?" He needs to touch Bucky as much as Bucky needs to touch him.

 

_“Oh Bast! Please say yes!”_

_“This is ridiculous.”_

_“OKOYE, SAY YES! They’re in LOVE!”_ Okoye glares at Aneka, who’s doing a poor job of hiding a smile on the other side of the cell door.

_“If I’m questioned, I’ll say you ordered me to do it.”_

_“Fine, fine. Just DO it! Love wins!”_

  


Bucky hides his face against the wall. Did Tony seriously just ask that? He actually laughs a little. This is ridiculous. This whole thing. Would be so funny if it wasn’t so serious.

With a sigh, and looking as though she disagrees with whatever order she just received on the Wakandan communicator, the guard in gold comes over and releases the force field just long enough for Tony to walk into the cell. Bucky reaches for him as soon as he can.

He takes his time. Tries not to fling himself at Bucky. He has some pride left.

Bucky has nothing left. Just this short time with Tony. He pulls him in for a hard kiss, groping his ass with his metal hand, gently pushing him back against the wall to plunge his tongue into his mouth. Too late, he remembers to ask, “Okay?”

"Hnng," stopped. Why would he stop? Tony pulls him back by the shoulders. "Don't stop."  Needs this. Shaky with it. Hands spider up Bucky’s chest. Needs that skin.

“Oh, god, Tony.” Bucky’s eyes close, both hands settling on Tony’s ass, pushing their bodies together. Just one last time. “Are you gonna come inside me again?” He’d asked yesterday, but Tony was so worried if Bucky was going to leave him. Tony’s hands feel so good on him. His wounds are fresh, but that doesn’t matter. Tony’s hands make the pain a good pain. He goes back to kissing.

 

It’s a moment before Okoye realizes Shuri’s silence is live on the communicator. She quickly adjusts the force field to be opaque. These are not things for a child’s eyes.

_“No! Why did you do that? It was just getting good--”_

_“Leave it, or I’m telling the queen.”_

_“But Mother doesn’t understand!”_

_“I should think not.”_ Hidden from the prisoners’ view, Aneka gives in and chuckles. _“And you. What have I told you about leaving the communication bead with your wife active while you’re on duty?”_

_“But the foreign woman--”_

_“Is nothing to look at compared with us.”_

Aneka turns to hide a tiny smile. _“Goodbye, my love,”_ she whispers, deactivating the kimoyo bead.

In the visitors’ office, Ayo’s face is stony as ever. “I’d love something to drink.” Nat crosses her legs, tucking her hair behind one ear fetchingly. Somehow, she knows.

“Do I look like a servant?” Ayo snaps, her tone more harsh than necessary.

 

*

 

"That's what you want?" How can Tony deny his Bucky anything? Especially when he's convinced this is his last meal?

"Yeah," Bucky says between kisses. "Want you in me." He wants to be closer to Tony. Closer than close.

There's no genteel way to say this. "Will you finger-fuck me? Oh please, oh please put those metal fingers in me."

"Yeah, baby." Bucky kisses his neck. "I'll do anything you want." Nips his collarbone. "Wanna make you feel good." And then Bucky's sinking to his knees, tugging at Tony's waistband.

Tony helps, pushing his pants down and pulling his shirt over his head. He leans against the wall and brushes his fingers through Bucky's hair.

Bucky tugs Tony’s pants down to his knees and cups his cock like a precious thing, worshiping it with his mouth. He kisses and licks it, nuzzles it and finally slurps the head, pushing it down his throat. Bucky hums happily, playfully clawing Tony’s hips while he sucks him off.

"Bucky." He whimpers, tugging at his hair, clutching his shoulder.

Bucky moans. Any way Tony touches him feels so good.

"So good. So good at that. Please don't go away.  I need-need this."

Now Bucky feels sad. He doesn’t WANT to go away. He sucks more urgently, needing Tony to know how he feels.  

Tony can't stop talking. "Need you." Serious. So serious. "I'm losing my mind."

Bucky stops. Looks up. “Is it...you’re okay?” He slips metal fingers between Tony’s thighs. Kisses his wet dick.

"I'm fine, gorgeous." Tony tucks that long hair behind his ears.

Bucky feels so light when he looks at Tony. He almost wants to smile.

 _Sexy. And beautiful._ Looking up at him with those eyes. Like an angel. And so gentle. So sweet. "Now, suck my dick."

Bucky swallows it. That sounds like an order, and he’s used to those. He strokes fingers back along Tony’s taint. As a bobs on Tony’s cock, he reaches his other hand up to pet his chest--not near the scar, but on either side of it, teasing. Bucky moans around his length, getting painfully hard himself.

Tony gasps, head back against the wall, eyes tight shut. He has to steady himself, holding on to Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky tries to watch Tony, wants to see what he’s doing to him, hear all the noises he makes, but he has to focus.

"Want you. Fuck me."

Bucky grips Tony’s arm. He what? Now he is watching him like a hawk.  

 _Whoops._ "Fingers. You said."

Bucky comes up for air, slurping the head. “I will, baby.” he nips Tony’s thigh, teasing his dry hole with sleek metal fingers. “But...you want me to fuck you?” He nips his other thigh, then drags his tongue up Tony’s length. “I can fuck you.” He rubs Tony’s ass with his index and middle fingers while his ring finger starts to press against that first ring of muscle. “Baby, I would fuck you so good…” Why can’t he stop biting Tony? “But I’d never wanna pull my dick out.” They’d be stuck together forever, like a pornographic sculpture. Now Bucky’s stroking himself, thinking about fucking Tony. “Nn, baby.” He slides the first finger in. “Your cock tastes so good.” He goes back to sucking it, fingering Tony with one hand, and jerking himself off with the other.

"Please please? I want it. Want you." Squirmy. Can't stop. Butterflies and fire. Nerves and lust. What is this feeling? "You don't have to pull out." He doesn't think he wants that either. "Fuck me." Whiney. Needy.

Bucky’s eyes light up. He stands so fast, he nearly stabs Tony with his dick. “How do you want it?” He pushes a second finger in, so excited, he starts to lift Tony off the ground with his metal arm. He grips Tony’s shoulder with his other hand, keeping him balanced.

Tony scrambles to wrap his arms around Bucky's neck.

Oh, that’s nice. Bucky wants to taste his mouth. He leans in, licking Tony’s lips.

Tony wants to climb him like a tree. Wait, wait, wait. _Wait until Bucky's dick is inside you._ But waiting is hard. "Against the wall?" Ahh. They can kiss again.

“Like this?” Bucky grabs Tony under the knees and pushes his legs up, twitching his dick into position. As soon as he feels Tony’s entrance with the tip of his cock, he groans. “Want you.” He pins Tony to the wall just like that, slowly letting gravity do its job, kissing. Kissing Tony and moaning at how good this feels. If this is love, he wants more. “Want all of you,” he growls.

Tony wraps legs around his waist, finally.  Lips attach themselves to Bucky's neck. Bucky is his. No one will harm Bucky now. Tony bites him gently.

Bucky growls, happy. “Take me.” It doesn’t make much sense given their position, but he wants to be Tony’s. However that happens.

Tony is trying to cram the noise back inside his mouth before someone comes to check on them but he hasn't gotten to be loud and he wants to shout about how good he feels.

“Tony.” Bucky groans loudly as the tip slips in. “Let me hear your voice.” He nips Tony’s ear. “Fuuuuuuuck. So good.” He teases fingers down his chest, grips Tony’s ass hard enough to leave fingerprints.

Tony clings, marking his neck and collarbone. His shoulders. Anything he can reach, feeling himself slip slowly down Bucky's cock.

Bucky whines and groans, feeling more and more of Tony, enjoying the feel of his teeth.

He throws his head back, pulling at Bucky's hair. "Oh goood, baby, fuck me!" He's done pretending this is temporary or casual. He wants everyone to hear him. The guards, the king, Nat…

With an excited breath, Bucky sheathes himself inside of Tony, moaning and gripping him hard before he starts to move. Then he’s pounding Tony against the wall, hard enough to make banging sounds, grunting and growling, sounding more beast than man. “Tony,” he hisses. “Where…” It’s so corny. But where has this been his whole life? He’s been alive so long, to go so long without knowing this feeling. Of being alive. Of wanting to become part of someone else. It would have changed everything.

Louder. "Jesus Christ, you feel amazing!" Slamming into him. The noise he makes. One of the most erotic experiences in Tony’s life. Can't think of one that tops this. And that's saying something.

“Oh god, baby!” Bucky’s never felt this good. “Your voice is like music.” He bites Tony to show his appreciation.

"Where's what my sugar bear?” Tony breathes, trying to concentrate on what Bucky has said before “What is it?" What can he do? Kisses along his jawline, gentle now.

“Where…” He clutches Tony’s thighs, tighter. “Where was this?” he whispers, moving in and out more slowly. “Where? I needed it.” Oh no, crying during sex? Hopefully Tony won’t notice.

He moans, tightening his legs around Bucky's waist, clenching around him. He likes being bitten.

Bucky gasps, eyes rolling back into his head. He shudders, so close.

"Where was my ass?" Tony smirks, looking up at Bucky. "Oh." The smirks slowly fades. Oh no. What's he done now? Tony kisses him, softly, over and over. _Don't cry_.

“Yeah.” Bucky cups his face, trying to smile. “Where was your ass?” He kisses Tony with salty lips, holds him tight. “Stay with me forever?” he whispers.

That implies that there will be longer than tomorrow. Tony grins, pleased. "Forever." Maybe they're happy tears? Forever. What did he sign up for? Better not think about it too much

Now the tears are happy ones. Bucky kisses him over and over. They’re just words. Empty promises. But he can remember this...he has to remember this, so he has something to hold onto. Bucky’s so emotional, he’s losing his erection. He pulls out, sits Tony down easy. Bucky makes his way back down Tony’s body, intending to suck his dick some more. Metal fingers are sliding their way back up Tony’s thigh.

Yesss! Tony leans back, stroking Bucky's hair. "Do you still want me to come in you, sexy?" And oh god Bucky's so sexy.

He looks up at Tony, almost smiling. “A little.” He bites Tony’s thigh. “Do you want to?” He gently sucks the tip. “You can come in my mouth...if you want.” Look at that, two fingers slide right in.

"I want you to come in--oh god." He can't help squirming and moving against Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky pushes his fingers in and out, amused. He kisses Tony’s pelvis.  

Those fingers do amazing things. "Let me make you come."

He looks up at Tony. “You want me to come in where?” Starts sucking his dick again, fingering him.

Fervent, needy. "Inside me. Come inside me."

“Alright, honey.” Bucky stands up, still fingering him, moves to kiss Tony. He presses their chests together. Feels good.

Tony's going to lose it soon. Going to come and come hard. "Want you to feel good." _Want you to love me._

“You make me feel good,” Bucky whispers. He draws Tony’s hand toward him, puts it on  his dick. It’ll get hard again if Tony touches him. “Love you. Love your ass.” He pushes a third finger in. “Love your mouth.” He kisses Tony hard. “Love your cock.” He grips it. “Love your whole body.” He kisses him again. “Love you, Tony.” What does it matter? He’ll be gone tomorrow anyway.

He scratches at Bucky's back. Oh those fingers.

Bucky growls, happy. Tony’s fingers catch in his freshly stitched wounds, and it feels good.

Tony holds his dick for a moment, like a child with his blanket, before giving Bucky a nice, rhythmic handjob.

Bucky stiffens quickly in Tony’s fingers. “Love your hands,” he whispers between kisses. “Love how you touch me.” No one touches him the way Tony does.

His whole body fills with warmth. Sunshine. Bucky loves him. Loves his body, and it's like he's melting.  "I-I-" can't say it. He wants to. Wants to so badly, but his mouth won't form the words. He whines, leaning his head against Bucky's shoulder.

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses Tony’s temple. “I’ve got you.” With a gentle kiss, he withdraws his fingers and turns Tony around. It will be better this way, feel better. He thinks he remembers. Bucky pulls Tony’s hips out from the wall and spreads his soft cheeks. He pushes his dick up against that stretched entrance and groans, starting to slide back in. “Love you, Tony.” He kisses the back of his neck, thrusting back in, moaning at how good Tony feels. Bucky grips his hips, pushing in hard, sliding out slowly, thrusting in again. He whimpers, picking up the pace.

He gasps, scratching at the wall, needing something to hold on too . "It's like you belong in my ass." Like they belong together. But that's stupid and needy, and Tony dismisses it.

Bucky doesn’t know about belonging in Tony’s ass, but… “I belong to you.”

He shivers. Those words echo too closely to his own thoughts. If Bucky calls him, he'll come running.

Bucky kisses the back of Tony’s neck, trying his best to put the indentation of his hipbones in Tony’s soft asscheeks.

"Fuck me." Tony whimpers. "Fuck me!" He wants to be damn loud about how good this feels.

Bucky goes harder, wrapping his right arm around Tony’s chest to steady him while gripping his dick with his metal hand.

Tony moans, leaning his head against the wall. Bucky's pounding him, and he needs it. "So good." Hurts so good.

“Fuck me,” he hisses in Tony’s ear. “Fuck my fingers like you want it.” He strokes Tony’s cock, letting him feel all the ridges and grooves of his metal joints. Meanwhile, Bucky’s toes are curling. Tony’s ass feels so good. “Love...your ass…” Is he hurting Tony? Is this too hard? He can’t stop. “Gonna...gonna come!”

And Tony gets to fuck Bucky's metal hand? "Gonna--brain overload." Gonna come. As long as they don't have any more technical issues.

“Yeah, hnnn!” Bucky bites his neck. “Brain overload on me...sexy.” He makes his arm move for Tony, careful not to pinch him with the moving pieces. The hydraulics make his hand move faster. “Come, Tony. Shoot your come all over me.” Bucky cries out, coming hard.

So fast. So hard. Tony reaches around and grabs Bucky's ass just as he feels Bucky coming. Tony yells, legs shaking, and comes, some on the wall, some in Bucky's hand.

Beautiful. Watching Tony come for him is beautiful. He’s beautiful.

It's good that Bucky's holding Tony up, because he can't hold himself up.

Bucky cradles Tony against him, pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck. “Thank you,” he whispers. Hopefully he can hold on to this memory. Bucky lifts Tony in his arms and carries him to the bench, laying him down.

"Shh. You don't thank people for sex. I wasn't doing it because I wanted you to thank me." Besides. Sex is just sex. Isn’t it?

It makes Bucky’s heart ache to hear Tony say so. But he wasn’t thanking him for sex. He smiles, wan, touching Tony’s cheek. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I ever saw.” Something precious. Something that hurts his heart to look at, and he can’t stop.

Tony laughs, that's ridiculous. But he hasn't seen all that much. "I'll take you to see more beautiful things. Museums, rivers, churches, sculptures..."

Bucky cups Tony’s cheek. It’s a nice pipe dream, but thinking about it is making him so sad right now.

"Lay with me. For just a little while." Tony doesn't beg. He reaches for Bucky's hand.

Bucky threads their fingers together. _Like this._ This feels right, the two of them, bound together.

"You can lay on me. I don't care."

He’s going to have to, the bench is too narrow to lie side by side. Bucky carefully stretches out on top of Tony, still holding his hand. “I never wanted to touch someone so bad in my whole life.” Not that his memory is reliable, but. Bucky feels like he would remember this feeling.

Tony grabs for his left hand, examining it, folding his fingers around it. "I can make this one feel." He thinks he can.

Bucky smiles sadly. “You gonna fix me?” He kisses Tony’s cheek, whispering, “Then I can feel you clamp down on my fingers while they’re inside you.”

And Bucky made it dirty. "I'll get right on that." The ideas are already whirling around his head.

“Yeah?” Sounds promising. Bucky grins, nuzzling and kissing Tony.

Has Tony found someone as fucked up as he is? "Are you going to fix _me_?"

Bucky kisses Tony’s brow. “Don’t need fixing.” He kisses Tony’s hand. “Like you the way you are...beautiful Tony…” But maybe Tony wants more. “I’ll do whatever you want.” As long as he can, anyway.

 

*

 

The skin of Okoye’s face has quite a crimson glow to it by the time the king finally calls. Aneka is impressed. “Ayo tells me you have the prisoner and Mr. Stark.”

She clears her throat before responding. “Yes, my king.”

“Please have Aneka escort Mr. Stark to the old visitors’ suite in the south wing.”

“Yes, my king.”

“How is the prisoner?”

Okoye clears her throat again. “Distracted.”

“Good. Have one of the others take your place on guard duty and join Ayo in the visitors’ office. The princess would like to pay Ms. Romanov a visit.”

“Understood.” Once the comm is off, Okoye turns and taps her sonic spear against the force field, the contact producing a harmonic percussive sound.

Bucky glances up. What was that? “Stark. The king summons you.” Bucky looks at Tony, worried, gripping his hand tighter.

Tony tries to sit up, smooths over the worried lines on his forehead. "It's okay, lover. You're going to be okay. Trust me. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore." He regretfully pulls his clothing back on.

Bucky doesn’t even care about that. He just wanted more time with Tony. He kisses Tony’s knuckles. “Forever,” he whispers, cupping Tony’s face one last time, stroking his cheeks. He stands so that he’s not in Tony’s way.

This is not goodbye. If Tony has to star in a jailbreak movie with Steve Rogers, he'll do it. This is _not_ goodbye. "Trust me, sweetheart. I'll be right back."

For Bucky, it’s hard to breathe around the pain. He tries to smile for Tony.

He stands up and throws himself at Bucky, careful of his stitches. Tony leans on him for a moment before walking to the door.

Bucky holds him one last time, and then just stands there, watching him go. Who cares if he’s naked? He doesn’t have anything now. Who cares?


	8. What Price Charity?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While T'Challa argues Bucky's case before the Wakandan tribal council, Shuri has her first one-on-one talk with Bucky. Meanwhile, Nat tests the limits of her confinement, along with Ayo's patience. T'Challa makes Tony an offer he can't refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, but I was getting dizzy jumping back and forth.

As T’Challa enters the throne room, all of the tribal elders stand, including his mother. He goes to her and clasps her hands. She’s worried. How he wishes he could mop the wrinkles from her brow, but they are all in mourning still. Of course she would be worried about her son, who has been pursuing his father’s killer outside the safe confines of Wakanda. T’Challa kisses her on both cheeks as W’Kabi takes his place in the circle. When he turns, the council sits as one. 

“So you’ve found the kingslayer,” the elder of the mining tribe says.

“The execution should take place as soon as possible,” Nakia’s father says. “We must crown our new king. We should be celebrating by now. This ugly business has gone on for long enough.”

“It’s true, I’ve returned home with a wanted terrorist as my captive,” T’Challa speaks deliberately, looking into each of their eyes by turn. “But he did not kill my father. Of that crime, he is innocent.”

Everyone but W’Kabi is surprised. “Then why have you brought him here?” the merchant tribe elder asks. “Leave him to the justice of his own people. We do not want him here.”

T’Challa takes a deep breath. They’re not going to like this. “I owe this man a debt. I have hunted him like an animal, injured him. He was set up as being to blame for the bombing in Vienna just to flush him from hiding, so that he could be used as a weapon by the same man who murdered my father. We were all misled. This man is a victim.”

“This man is not our problem.” T’Challa can see the anger in W’Kabi’s eyes. “Kill him and be done with it, or send him back to Europe to be killed by his own people. It is no affair of Wakanda’s.”

T’Challa knows why W’Kabi speaks this way, but it hurts him to see such callousness in his friend. He knows the deep wounds that have made W’Kabi’s heart hard. “He is my affair,” T’Challa says. “And I take full responsibility for him.” He’s not surprised when the council erupts into argument.

 

*

 

“Oh, good. We’re finally alone.”

Bucky jumps at the unfamiliar voice coming from the walls. It’s a female one. He scrambles to pull his jeans back on.

This elicits giggling. “Don’t worry! I’ve seen it all before.”

Bucky’s eyes dart around the cell. He doesn’t feel anyone else in here with him, so it must be a communication device. He searches for that, peering closely at the walls and ceiling.

“Do you really want to find it?” she asks. “Just look behind your ear! I’ve been there the whole time.”

Bucky slaps at his ears like there’s a buzzing mosquito coming after him. Then he finds something--a little plastic disc. A painful stab of sound jolts through his ears when he tries to take it off.

“Don’t do that, silly man! If you take it off, how will we be able to talk to each other?”

Bucky backs up against the wall, taking a defensive stance. “Who the hell are you?”

The 3-D silhouette of a woman’s head and shoulders appears in the middle of the cell. It looks like it’s made out of sand, or perhaps magnetic beads. “I have many names,” the silhouette smiles. “But you can call me Shuri, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What do you want, Shuri?”

“Peace on Earth.” She laughs, and it’s a joyful, childlike sound. “And for everyone to have a hoverbike and kimoyo beads of their own.”

Bucky’s brow furrows. He can’t quite discern if she’s mad or just toying with him. “You’re...a girl,” he realizes, finally.

“Wrong,” she tells him. “I’m the smartest living person in the world, and I’m a woman.”

There’s some defensiveness there. Bucky figures he guessed correctly. “What’s the smartest living person want with me?”

The silhouette’s smile fades. “From what I’ve read, you’ve experienced quite a bit of tragedy in your life. Do you like jelly beans? I love them!”

Wait. Are those two things supposed to be related? When Bucky accidentally considers her nonsequitorial question, he experiences an inexplicable sense of loss. It’s a familiar feeling to him: when he tries to remember something he knows is in there somewhere, but he can’t bring it back. He can’t recall it. “I...I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiles sympathetically. “When you come see me, we can try all the flavors together, and then you’ll remember.”

That sounds pretty far-fetched. “Where are you?”

“Somewhere close by, where people are happy and music is playing.”

It makes Bucky sad. It shouldn’t. He has no idea who this woman is, and she’s probably lying. But it makes him yearn for all the places he’ll never go now.

“You can come, too, Sergeant Barnes. Don’t worry!”

Bucky sags onto the bench, resting his face in his hands. He’s never going to see Tony again. That’s worse than losing his freedom--he deserves that part. What a stupid pipe dream it was, that they’d run away together, and live some happy, carefree life. That was never how it was going to go.

“Poor Eeyore,” she says. “‘The nicest thing about the rain is that it always stops. Eventually.’”

 

*

 

Nat’s guess is that this is a holding cell only made to look like an office. There’s something very dated about it, and it’s not the tasteful African decor. That rotary phone on the desk, for example. The Wakandans know that’s not how phones work anymore, so who is the show intended for? Foreign dignitaries from 1965?

She has a theory, and she wants to test it. But will her guard allow that? After her initial fit of temper, the Wakandan woman seems to have turned into a statue, responding to no more of Nat’s questions, and making no move to stop her from exploring the room a little. So what if she walks over to the desk...pulls back the chair...sits down… Still no response. It’s just as Nat thought. Her guard is showing no concern, because there will be no dial tone when she picks up the ancient, heavy receiver.

There is a dial tone. She’s just lost a bet with herself. “Mind if I make a quick call?” she asks the guard. The woman remains silent. So Nat dials Steve’s last burner phone number from memory--she’s the one who gives those out nowadays anyway.

Sam picks up after two rings. “I’m guessing it’s Nat from the fact there’s NO number showing from the other end. Not even a blocked number.”

“Point for you, Wilson. How’s Steve?” 

“Better and better. Pissing off lots of doctors by refusing to follow orders, so I’m guessing we’ll be out of here soon.”

“Wait. He was following doctors’ orders before?” It’s a joke. If Steve ever did, they’d know he was an imposter.

“He was unconscious before. That’s about what it takes.” There’s a pause on the line. “So, you gonna tell me what happened, or are we playing double jeopardy? Because I hate having to give my answers in the form of questions. Always get disqualified.”

Nat bites her lip, tapping her fingernails against the laquer top of the desk. “Not sure what I’m allowed to say.” She’s watching the guard’s face for any signs. “We’re okay. All three of us.”

“You found ‘em? Steve’s gonna sprint outta here.”

“Yeah. Maybe. T’Challa found us. I’m not sure even Steve can sprint this far.”

“Wakanda? Man, I envy you. What’s it like there?”

“It’s…” Nat glances around at the decor. “We haven’t seen much. To be honest, we could be in a hidden base somewhere, and I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“That sounds amazing.” She can hear something in Sam’s voice change. He must have caught on to the fact their conversation isn’t private. “So how do we set up this family reunion?”

“Not sure.” Nat watches the door click open. “I think I have to go.”

“Whoa, don’t leave me hanging!”

The captain of the royal guard--the dora milaje--enters the office, followed by a young woman who is deceptively casually dressed. A good spy knows her heads of state and royal families. It’s the princess of Wakanda.

“Tell Steve to do what the doctors are telling him to,” she says to Sam. “I’ll call you back.”

After Nat hangs up the phone, she stands, offering Princess Shuri a polite bow. “Your highness. I’m pleased to meet you.”

The princess nods her head respectfully in turn. “Ms. Romanov.” Her somber face transforms with an excited smile. “I’m pleased to meet you as well. Tell me--I want to know everything about what it’s like to be the strongest woman in America.”

Nat chuckles. “I guess that depends how you define strength…”

“Come on.” Shuri rolls her eyes. “Strength is strength. Like them.” She motions to the dora milaje. “Clever. Quick. A martial arts expert. And three steps ahead of the men you’re supposed to work for.”

Nat’s polite smile widens. She thinks she’s going to like it here. “Well, if that’s what you mean--”

“Oh! I almost forgot!” The princess touches a bead on her bracelet, and something like a phone screen is projected into the air between them. “I need to record this. You don’t mind if I interview you?”

Mind? Of course she minds. A spy is nothing without secrets. But Nat doesn’t suppose this young woman is here to probe her about the Red Room. “Of course not,” she smiles warmly--a carefully calculated degree of warmth. Nat takes a seat in one of the comfortable chairs in the office. She’s taken by surprise when the princess points the recording device at herself, and her demeanor suddenly changes.

“Hey, fam, it’s your girl, Baby Underbite, coming at you today with an exclusive one on one interview with the lady Avenger herself, Black Widow!” She turns the camera back to Nat, who tries to look poised and perhaps a little bored.

Okoye’s eyes shift unhappily to Ayo. She does not like this. But her arguments against the princess having her own intranet channel were shot down long ago.

 

*

 

The guard in silver ushers Tony back out into the hall whose walls seem to be made of moving code. He needs to learn Wakandan, stat. The guard leads him to a suite where a royal aide takes over, pointing out the shower and a wardrobe where several changes of clothes are available. “His majesty will be with you shortly,” the aide says, leaving. 

This place is beautiful. It's hard to concentrate on walking in a straight line. Ooh, especially with come leaking out of your ass.

So the shower is welcome. A clean pair of pants is also nice. He wonders what color Bucky would prefer on him. The blue button down is the closest to Bucky's eyes.

Tony's nearly dressed when he hears the door beep. A knock?

The King stands there in a crisply tailored suit with just a scarf over one shoulder denoting his rank. He enters the room with confidence, turning to look at Tony. “Your friend is innocent of my father’s murder. But he is still wanted by Interpol for previous crimes. What are we to do about this?” Of course, the council has already discussed these matters. But he wants to hear what Stark feels.

Tony sits on the bed. Oh, wait, that might be wrong. He stands again. It's important that he makes a good impression.

Tony nods.  _ No doi he's innocent.  _ But Bucky's life is in his hands, so Tony keeps his mouth shut.

“Please.” T’Challa waves a hand at the seating arrangement in the room. “Sit, if you wish.” T’Challa does so.

Tony sits back down on his hands to keep them still. “We both know a case can be made for him.” Tony suggests. “He's been abused and manipulated in a way no man should have to suffer through. But that's not going to happen over night. And he's not going to sit in some prison cell until then." A psychologist is really who Bucky needs. Not an institution. Someone like Wilson.

“Once Barnes has been turned over to international authorities, it is out of my hands. At best, they will institutionalize him for life.” And at an institution, there would likely be experiments the public will not be told about. “Perhaps, if we are discreet…”  _ Just between us, Stark. _ “He can remain here. Seek help on a more voluntary basis.”

_ Wow. _ "That's a very generous offer. If you wouldn't have any objections, I'd like him to speak to a therapist--someone I trust--on a regular basis." For now they can stay here. He can talk to Sam about vacations when Bucky's ready. And he'll be safe with Tony. Tony will take care of him.

“If this...someone can be trusted with Barnes’ location and status, I do not object. Barnes may choose for himself. We have many qualified doctors and experts here in Wakanda to choose from.” The king stands. “Then, if you agree, I will order chambers prepared for him.” He turns back. “Unless...you wish different arrangements for the both of you?”  

"This is a beautiful palace, a beautiful space, and I'm not at all ungrateful for the offer, but maybe something's that's just ours-"  _ ours???  _ "--his. His own space."  _ Ours. _

T’Challa considers where he might give Barnes a home that the man would not be disturbed by members of T’Challa’s tribe who disagree with having an outsider living among them. “I will look into this. To begin, I believe both Mr. Barnes and the people of Wakanda will be safer if he resides here--if both of you reside here, in the royal complex. Unless...you wish to return home?”

"Not without Bucky. I'm staying with him.”

T’Challa nods. He’s not surprised. Stark did promise to stay with him forever. Not that he’s any happier now about having overheard that conversation.

“When can I call Wilson?”

“I believe Ms Romanov has already taken care of that.” Contacting her associates was one of the first things Romanov did once escorted to the office, according to Ayo.

“Do you need to evaluate him?” Tony asks. He knows the answer but he needs a date and time so the both of them can be prepared. He’s not letting Bucky go it alone.

“Sergeant Barnes should have some say, but it would be wise to at least have him physically evaluated after--what occurred.” And T’Challa’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to keep Shuri away from Barnes’ arm.

“Can we take him out of that cell?"  _ Please? _

“He can join you here, if you wish, while my staff prepares more permanent lodgings.”  

"He's dying in there." It’s very hard not to beg for his release. What happened to that dignity he was supposed to have?

T’Challa calmly takes out his “cell phone” and presses a few buttons. “His vitals all appear to be normal for someone with his metabolism.”

Tony raises an eyebrow _. After you attacked him shirtless in the snow. Right.   _

“His blood glucose is low...I will have food brought down for you both.”

_ Metaphors, catman, come on. _ "Bring food here. If this is where he'll be staying."  _ And get him out of that goddamn cell. _ “Er, please?”

The king raises an eyebrow. “Someone will bring food as soon as it has been prepared.” He stands and shrugs it off, this need colonizers have to give others orders.

"He thinks he's either going to be locked away forever or be sentenced to death."

“Then perhaps you would like to deliver the good news?” Barnes’ thought process is merely pragmatic, but. Perhaps hearing he has options will raise his spirits.

"Yeah." Tony smiles. "I'll bring him here." He bounces in his seat. He's too excited. It won't stay inside him.

T’Challa walks out, and Tony’s two steps behind him. But he finds himself quickly intercepted by that same silver-mailed guard. “I’m going to the holding cell,” he tells her, firmly. Tony memorized the way; he doesn’t need help. All he needs is Bucky.  


End file.
